Chapter 6: En Route to Qo'noS, 2400
B'Elanna Torres paced the floor of the observation lounge that was serving as her office as she and Worf made their way once again to the Klingon homeworld. They were only a day into their journey, but she was already feeling a bit of cabin fever.
"Ambassador Sperik asked me if, in my official opinion, Korath would be able to convince the High Council to join the Federation," she explained.
"And your response?" Worf asked her seriously from his chair at the conference table, where he sat like an old grishnar cat.
"I told him that the Empire is likely to be a more sincere ally now that Lurchek has the Council behind him," B'Elanna replied, turning to face him with her hands on her hips, "but that expecting the Empire to abandon its code of honor for Federation principles is farfetched."
Worf nodded. "Lurchek will prove far more cooperative than his predecessor, but asking Klingons to forsake the honor and glory of battle is like asking the Ferengi to donate latinum to charity."
B'Elanna suppressed a laugh at the comparison. "I keep reading more reports about the Peace Initiative, Worf. There may be more Klingons in favor of Federation candidacy than you think."
Worf peered at her. "And you? Don't tell me you think the Empire should retire the bat'leth for the tricorder?"
"Of course not," B'Elanna tried to assure him convincingly. "It's part of Klingon culture. But I think the people in the movement deserve a chance to live the way they want to live – even if it defies tradition. We already know what centuries of dying honorably are like. Why not see what a few years of nonviolence get us?"
Worf didn't answer but turned back to the padd he was reading. B'Elanna suspected he disagreed with her – that he thought the new social movement was a mere mass of cowards – and she was too tired to engage in a debate. It's going to be a long week if he's already angry at me.
"How is your family?" Worf asked courteously a few minutes later.
"Tom is…Tom," she told him, sliding into the seat next to him. "And Miral left with the Galileo. She and Andrew are planning to have their wedding in San Francisco when she returns. You're invited, of course." She paused.
"And L'Naan?"
"L'Naan has been invited to…do something I hadn't expected her to do." She watched his mustache twitch a bit. "Look, Worf, I appreciate you asking, but it's a little complicated."
"Then she will not be attending the Daystrom Institute?"
"I don't know," B'Elanna admitted.
Perhaps it was the pressure of the past few weeks, or perhaps it was a need to talk to an unbiased third party. Suddenly B'Elanna found herself confiding to Worf all that had happened with her younger daughter.
To Worf's credit, he did not interject his opinion. He did not share stories of his own encounters with the Q while serving on the Enterprise under Picard. He merely listened to a mother concerned for her child's well-being before saying sagely, "The heart of a warrior is never tested before the warrior is ready."
B'Elanna considered this. She was not keen on the idea of L'Naan disappearing into the folds of the Q Continuum. But perhaps Worf was right. Maybe this wouldn't be happening if L'Naan couldn't handle it.
Earth, Pacific Ocean, Off the Coast of San Francisco
When Tom offered to take L'Naan and her "new friend" (as he referred to the young Q) sailing after his duty shift at the Academy shuttle hangar, L'Naan responded with a joyful yes. She was less excited about the actual sailing, which she had done innumerable times in her life, than she was the inclusion of Charlie in their afternoon plans.
She had made her decision that morning: she was going to tell Charlie she would help him in any way necessary, even if that meant joining the Continuum and leaving her family behind. The more she thought about the questions everyone had raised, the more L'Naan realized that the answers were unimportant. Her parents had instilled in her a strong sense of duty to the less fortunate. That was what had prompted Miral to hasten to the Quebec Outposts in the midst of the Norvalian plague; it had caused her mother to join the Maquis; it had led to her father's brief incarceration for trying to save a dying ocean. Although she knew neither her parents nor Miral liked her particular cause, she hoped they would be unable to deny that she was merely doing what each of them had done, and just as they had ignored the immediate consequences for the greater good, so would she.
L'Naan spent the day trying to locate Charlie to tell him the news and to invite him sailing. But even though she had called out for Charlie several times and commed the house in Indiana, he was nowhere to be found.
To avoid having to answer her father's questions about the whereabouts of her "new friend," L'Naan had recruited Lenaris to join them, and the three were now traveling south on a course parallel to the Californian coastline as the sun slowly made its way across the western half of the sky.
"What do you mean you're not going to the Daystrom Institute?" Lenaris asked as she looped a rope around a cleat.
"Will you keep your voice down?" L'Naan shushed with a backward glance at her father. He was preoccupied with his role as skipper and didn't seem to be listening to them.
"You mean, you haven't told him yet?" Lenaris asked as they both sat on the edge of the starboard bow.
"No, I just decided today."
"Bring the jib hard on!" Tom called to them.
They rose and quickly got to work, pulling the rope together. Lenaris took advantage of their proximity to whisper, "Why aren't you going? You've been talking about this for ten years."
L'Naan grunted as she tied a bowline and then pushed her hair out of her face. She looked at her friend, asking her not to press for an answer she couldn't give. Lenaris understood.
"Nice job, ladies!" Tom shouted to them with a smile.
They smiled artificially and waved back at him.
"It has to do with Charlie, doesn't it?" Lenaris whispered, looking slightly disgusted. "I can't believe you'd give up your dreams for some idiotic crush. That's not like you."
"That's not how it is," L'Naan tried to explain.
"You've really changed," Lenaris said quietly.
L'Naan leaned against the bow again and tried to think of a way of making sense of it all for Lenaris. But the thoughts were tumbling around her head faster than her mind could process them. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as the boat cruised along, realizing with some sadness that there were costs involved in her decision she hadn't budgeted for.
Indiana, Bloomington, Janeway Residence
"Have you seen Charlie today?" Kathryn asked Chakotay as he stepped inside the front door.
"That's not a very warm greeting." He leaned down and kissed her. "But, no, I haven't."
"He wasn't here when you left this morning?"
Chakotay shook his head. "He's probably at Tom and B'Elanna's."
"You're probably right," Kathryn said, casting off her concerns. "I thought maybe we'd eat dinner outside tonight. The weather's gorgeous."
"On the porch?"
"No, a picnic," she said with a charmed smile at him. "We can take a walk by the creek."
Chakotay returned her smile. "Sounds great. Let me change my clothes, though."
Kathryn followed him into their bedroom. "I guess Charlie's an adult," she continued. "He can take care of himself. It's not as if he needs our help if he wants to go somewhere."
"Why are you so worried about him suddenly? The last time I checked, you wanted to wring his neck."
Kathryn sat down on the bed and watched with interest as he pulled off his shirt. "I had a chance to see him interact with L'Naan," she explained. "You should see them together, Chakotay. He's up to something – I know it for sure now – but they read each other so well. Whatever he's up to, she's in on it, and I don't think his intention is to hurt her."
"Well, that's good," he said, sitting down on her left. He toed off his shoes and pulled on a pair of boots better suited to a walk through the woods. "Because if anyone hurts my goddaughter…"
"Do you ever wish we'd gotten married?"
"Gotten?" he asked, looking over at her. "Past tense? Has the time come and gone?"
"Okay, I'll rephrase. Do you ever wish we were married?"
"No."
"Fast answer."
He smiled deeply, showing off his dimples. "I used to, but only because there seemed to be a difference in your mind. But I know I'm not going anywhere, and seeing as this is your house, I doubt you are."
"You've lived here for eighteen years," she reminded him. "Do you really still think of this as my house?" She looked at him, pursing her lips. "I'm serious. We've never really talked about it, but marriage would come with certain legal benefits."
"What's gotten into you?" he asked. "Is this because Charlie and L'Naan 'read each other'?"
Kathryn shrugged slightly. "Yes, I suppose so. And Andrew and Miral seem so confident, so sure of themselves, even in spite of the past few weeks."
"They're twenty-one," he reminded her. "In three or four years, they'll realize they don't know anything about life. They'll probably end up getting divorced, and Harry and Tom won't know how to handle it."
But she continued, not really listening to him. "And Charlie asking L'Naan to join the Continuum to help save his race…"
"Do you really believe him?" Chakotay asked, the doubt ringing in his voice.
"I think, Chakotay," she said earnestly, "the question is whether or not L'Naan believes him."
"And that's got you thinking about us?"
She nodded, still lost in thought. "It makes me wonder what our purpose is."
"This is a lot to be discussing on an empty stomach." Her glare told him she wanted him to be serious. "All right," he said. "I suppose I think we have many purposes. You charted an unknown part of the galaxy for seven years. You defeated the Borg. You're in the history books. You changed the lives of one hundred forty people by giving them new opportunities to define themselves, to make friends, to fall in love, to explore. Do I need to go on?"
"No," she said quietly. "What about you?"
Chakotay smiled, dimples fully revealed. "Me? I'm just the guy who always sits to your left." He stood up and offered her a hand.
"Hardly," she said, taking his hand and letting him guide her back toward the kitchen.
They gathered up provisions for their picnic and set off past the expansive backyard. They were following a dirt path through the woods toward the creek when Kathryn decided to resume the conversation.
"What do you think a wedding of ours would be like?"
"Now or back then?"
"Then," she pronounced. She was certain that one or two junior officers had wagered on a relationship between her and her first officer while they were on Voyager; they might as well engage in their own speculation.
"Well," Chakotay began puckishly, "Tuvok would have been your best man."
"And B'Elanna yours," Kathryn teased right back, giving him a winning smile.
"Harry would have played music while the Doctor sang," he continued. "Maybe we could have convinced Seven to wear a dress."
At the mention of Seven's name in vain, Kathryn felt a very old wound being pried slightly open. "Okay, make a joke. It's not worth discussing."
Chakotay realized his mistake too late. Seven of Nine had been many things to Kathryn – friend, crew member, surrogate daughter – and he knew it had hurt her that he and Seven had started seeing each other without telling her. He and Kathryn had conveniently "lost touch" for several years after Voyager had returned from the Delta Quadrant, and they both knew why. Although it was now water under a very old bridge, given that they'd reconciled their friendship and begun a life partnership that had last for nearly twenty years, there were some things he should have known better than to joke about.
They continued on in silence until they reached the creek. Chakotay held the picnic basket open for Kathryn, who pulled out a large red blanket and spread it on the grass for them. Then they settled on top of it and began to pull out miscellaneous containers of food and drink.
After a minute of organizing, Chakotay asked softly, "Do you ever wish we'd gotten married?"
"Sometimes," Kathryn admitted quietly.
"There's no window of time, you know. We still can if you want to."
Kathryn sighed. "For one thing, that doesn't seem like a hearty proposal. For another, there doesn't seem to be much point now, as you said." She poured a glass of wine and handed it to him. "Anyway, everyone would probably think we're following in the footsteps of two reckless twenty-year-olds who will probably end up getting divorced in three years anyway."
Her sarcasm made him frown. "Since when do you care about what other people think of you?" He accepted the glass and sniffed the wine approvingly.
He wondered why the marriage discussion had begun in the first place. While he knew she'd once imagined herself getting married and having a family, he also knew that Voyager's exile had changed that possibility for her. Since they began seeing each other, they'd had an understanding. They were both at certain places in their careers; they were both of a certain age. Talk of child-rearing was just not feasible. Commitment, on the other hand, was instantaneous. Since the day Chakotay had announced he'd taken a position at a university on Earth, they had lived together. In his mind it was a marriage, whether or not they'd ever had a ceremony performed.
Kathryn help up her wine glass, and they tapped them together with a satisfying clinking sound.
Jupiter Station, Holographic Laboratory
"Computer, freeze program."
Work on the twenty-fifth anniversary Voyager holoprogram was painstaking and slow-going, but Tom knew there was no way he'd let the Doctor and Reg Barclay create it without him. As it was, they were three years into the project and three away from the release date, but they were still a long way from finished.
Tom circled around a hologram of himself seated on a lounge chair at the Paxau resort. One of Harry's "volleyball players" was giving holo-Tom a massage while he attempted to work on crew reports.
"I admire the authenticity," he said as he looked down at the padd in holo-Tom's hand. "But I don't think Pablo Baytart wants everyone who uses this program to see his annual evaluation." He peered into his holographic double's face, which looked just a bit more stimulated by the scantily clad blonde who was rubbing his shoulders than Tom would have preferred. "And I really don't want B'Elanna or my daughters to see this scene."
"But this is how it happened," Reg said. "You and Harry were sitting here, and then Q showed up to ask you how to win Captain Janeway's heart."
"Q – the most nefarious letter in the standard alphabet," the Doctor mused. He looked over at Tom, who had his thumb and forefinger to his lips and looked deep in thought. "Reg, maybe under the circumstances, we can skip this particular adventure? I'm sure Admiral Janeway would appreciate it." He gestured slightly at Tom.
Reg nodded back in understanding. "Let's go on to the next one. Computer, initialize chapter 154 – 'Giant Viruses From Outer Space.'"
"Sounds like something out of Captain Proton," Tom commented as the Paxau resort vanished and was replaced with Voyager's mess hall, full of crew members clutching their stomachs and foreheads.
"In this chapter," Reg said excitedly, as he circled the motionless holographic characters, "the user gets to be Captain Janeway as she races to save the ship."
"I helped her," the Doctor reminded him.
"I forgot this even happened," Tom admitted as he walked over to a table where holo-Tom sat next to holo-B'Elanna. He sat down at the third chair at the table. "Reg, Doc, would you mind if we took a break? I can't really concentrate."
Reg sat down at the fourth chair. "You're worried about L'Naan."
"I'm not sure what's worse," Tom admitted, "that L'Naan just told me she's not going to school in the fall or that I'm going to have to tell B'Elanna when she gets back from Qo'noS." He looked at holo-B'Elanna, who looked in his mind just like a slightly older L'Naan. "When she was little and she'd get hurt, I'd pick her up in my arms and kiss her, and after a minute or two I'd have her laughing again. It gets harder to fix their problems as they get older."
"Maybe she doesn't need you to fix this problem," the Doctor suggested gently. "Have you considered the possibility that it's not a problem at all?"
"Doc, I'm not letting my little girl run off with a Q."
The Doctor smiled sympathetically. "She's not really a little girl anymore, though, is she?"
"No," Tom admitted. "Neither is Miral." He looked up at them. "She sent me a copy of her first duty report. It's completely by-the-book."
"When is the wedding?" Reg asked.
Tom ran a hand through his hair to shake himself out of his fog. "She has a six-month tour of duty, and then the Galileo is scheduled to be back in this sector. That's when they'll have the wedding. You'll both be invited, of course. And, Doc, I'm counting on you to bring some beautiful girl on your arm."
The Doctor frowned slightly. "Lina and I broke up," he confessed.
"I'm sorry, Doc," Tom said. "What happened?"
"Opera singers are…emotionally volatile."
"So you're back to being a bachelor like me?" Reg's voice almost sounded giddy.
"Let's get back to work," the Doctor suggested.
"All right," Tom said, lifting himself from the chair. "But let's work on something more fun."
Barclay nodded. "I know just what we should run. Computer, begin chapter 162," he instructed. "'Ensign Kim Encounters the Planet of the Killer Brides.'"
Earth, San Francisco, Torres-Paris Family Residence
L'Naan sat cross-legged on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. She could hear her parents arguing behind their closed bedroom door, even though her door was also closed. Although she couldn't make out every word, she got the general idea: they were arguing about her.
She hadn't intended to cause friction in their easily aggravated home when she'd confided her decision to her father. In her mind, once her mother returned from Qo'noS, Tom would explain the situation to her, and both parents would embrace her and congratulate her on her special destiny, and then all three would stay up until the wee hours discussing what it would mean for their family.
You should have known Mom's first response would be 'no,' petaQ, she scolded herself.
As for her father, she half-expected his overprotective side to kick in and half-expected that his good-natured free spirit would encourage her to have fun jaunting off to the Continuum. "Keep safe, squirt," she could imagine him saying, "but enjoy the adventure. I always knew you'd end up doing something spectacular."
You're an idiot.
Chakotay had once told her that when her mother was younger, her standard response to frustration was to throw things. L'Naan had never witnessed that firsthand, and even though her parents seemed to be in the middle of a good brawl, she didn't hear the sound of anything breaking. She supposed that was a good sign.
It wasn't that her mother was out of control or was someone whose temper caused those around her to walk on eggshells. Once a classmate had come home with L'Naan after school and had been intimidated by her – "Your mom is a scary, angry Klingon!" – but L'Naan knew it wasn't true. (In fact, she'd never spoken to the classmate again, and Miral had threatened to beat him up.) B'Elanna was a good mother, one who was protective of her daughters because she wanted them to be happy. L'Naan knew it had something to do with Grandpa T and her mother's seldom-discussed childhood. But apart from being protective, B'Elanna was actually quite warm and funny.
In truth, Tom was the one to be feared. Although he laughed a lot more than he yelled, L'Naan knew from watching the fireworks that occasionally exploded between him and Miral that once the laughter stopped, a serious, not-to-be-crossed person emerged.
That was the reason why it was her mother who was currently advocating her side while her father tried to figure out how to get her out of the Q situation.
But, of course, that was just the day's arrangement. Her parents were seasoned veterans, and if the script called for a change in roles the next day, L'Naan had no doubt they could perform with equal gusto. B'Elanna would say she regretted quitting Starfleet Academy and didn't want L'Naan to make the same mistake. Tom would argue that life can sometimes take a person in unexpected directions, and he'd point out that if B'Elanna hadn't left the Academy and if he hadn't been arrested, they would never have met.
"'And then we wouldn't be in this position in the first place,'" L'Naan muttered to herself in imitation of her mother. She tossed the pillow aside and slid off the bed.
In front of their bedroom door, she took a deep breath and then knocked.
The door flew open. "Squirt?"
"I know you're fighting about me," she said matter-of-factly.
"We're not fighting about you, sweetheart," her mother said, peeking around Tom. "We're not even fighting. We're just –"
"Venting frustration," Tom finished. He stepped aside to let L'Naan in.
"Can I just remind you that I didn't ask for this to happen? This wasn't my choice."
Tom came around to sit on the edge of his bed. "I know," he said with evident weariness. "That's why I'm not mad at you."
"Then who are you mad at?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.
"Q. The universe. Shuttle fourteen."
"Shuttle fourteen?"
"Faulty EPS relay," B'Elanna explained. "It's been replaced twice in the last week."
L'Naan nodded, slightly relieved. It was clear her parents were still working as a team. Just one that communicated loudly. She decided to try to lift her father's spirits. "Dad, you want to try out that Emergency Command Hologram subroutine in the Voyager program?"
Tom smiled faintly and put a hand on her knee. "Okay, but you play the ECH. I get to be Captain Janeway."
"Deal."
"Give me and your mother a minute to finish talking, okay, squirt? I'll meet you in the holosuite in five minutes."
L'Naan smiled and started for the door. "Don't take too long," she teased, "or you won't get control of your ship back from me." She closed the door behind her.
Tom ran a hand over his face. "God, B'Elanna, I love her so much."
B'Elanna took the seat L'Naan had vacated and put her hand on his leg. "I know you do." She smiled at him. "I was just thinking how much you've changed since I first met you."
"What do you mean?"
"You used to suppress all your emotions and use the holodeck to avoid dealing with them. Now you're able to have a real conversation with me and to tell your daughters how much you love them."
"I guess."
"She's trying to cheer you up by offering to test that program with you, you know."
"She knows me well." He put his hand over hers on his leg. "I still haven't adjusted to the idea of Miral leaving. I thought we'd have a few more years to get ready for L'Naan."
B'Elanna kissed his temple. "So did I. But you'd better go enjoy the time you do have with her."
Tom nodded. "You want to come with us? I'll let you be the Hierarchy alien."
"Hierarchy alien?" Her eyes narrowed as she tried to remember which inhospitable Delta Quadrant species he meant. The Voyager program was his baby – his, Reg Barclay's, and the Doctor's. Unlike them she hadn't spent the past few years steeping herself in their past. It finally registered. "Tom Paris," she said with concern, "you didn't include the part where the Doctor began to fantasize, did you? If the hologram of me throws herself at him…"
Tom just winked and left to join L'Naan.
