Charybdis
Source Episode: VOY 1x03 Parallax

The first night aboard Voyager was difficult, to say the least.

After the Kazon withdrew from the area, Captain Janeway called Chakotay, Tuvok, and me into the briefing room to discuss our situation. Meanwhile, the rest of our renegade crew were escorted to the mess hall under the watchful eye of Voyager's security.

"Please," Janeway said, gesturing towards a long table flanked by eight chairs. "Have a seat." She lowered herself into the chair at the head of the table while the rest of us took seats on either side.

"Well, Mister Chakotay, Miss Eelo." She folded her hands. "It seems we have a unique problem. I was sent into the Badlands with orders to apprehend you and your crew and to take you all into Starfleet custody. But seventy-five years is a long time to spend in our brig, and given the circumstances, I'm not sure we can afford to let the Maquis personnel go to waste."

"Are you suggesting putting us to work here?" Chakotay asked.

"All three of you have spent time in both Starfleet and the Maquis. Do you think it would be possible to integrate your crew with mine?"

Chakotay's eyebrows went up. "You mean make them Starfleet?"

"Well, they would have to fall in line somewhere," Janeway said. "We won't make it very far without a hierarchy."

"With all due respect, Captain, a lot of my people left Starfleet for good reasons. Even those who didn't come from Starfleet resent the Federation for its relationship with the Cardassian Union."

"But don't you agree that it would be preferable to seventy-five years in confinement?"

"I can't say for sure that everyone would."

Tuvok cut in. "Miss Eelo. Your psychological and diplomatic background affords you a unique perspective. Would you care to share any thoughts on the matter?"

All eyes turned to me.

My mouth fell open, but I snapped it shut. "Wha—oh... okay." I took a deep breath, trying to get my thoughts in order. "Well, I do think it's possible to integrate the crews, but it depends on a few things."

"Like what?" Janeway asked.

Like a lot of things, I wanted to say. But captains always wanted simple, straightforward answers. "Like what jobs you give us and who we answer to."

"Tasks would depend on each crew member's knowledge and abilities," she said, as if it should have been obvious. "And they would report to whoever is the ranking officer of their department."

I fidgeted with my hands under the table. "Yes, of course. What I mean is, would any of our crew have authority here, or would that just be for the Starfleet officers?"

"What kind of authority are you looking for, Miss Eelo?"

I hesitated to answer. While Captain Janeway had given me a decent impression, there was so much resentment between Starfleet and the Maquis. What I had in mind was something no fleet captain would ever agree to, but it was the only gesture I could think of to get us on the right track. I had to say it, even if she shot it down.

But I couldn't make my lips form the words.

Thankfully, Tuvok spoke up for me. "Captain, allow me to point out that you do have the authority to issue provisional rankings, which would effectively confer the same authority upon the recipient as an approved rank."

"You think I should put them in senior positions, Tuvok?"

Encouraged by Tuvok's initiative, I finally found my voice. "If you're asking, do we think that our crew will put on Starfleet uniforms and sing 'kum-by-ya' with your crew while scrubbing plasma manifolds for seventy-five years, then the answer is no. But if you and your crew will give us the same respect as any Starfleet personnel would receive, then maybe there's a chance it could work."

"I think that's reasonable," Janeway said. "But you have other reservations?"

"Captain, you have to realize just how much deep-rooted resentment there is between Starfleet and Maquis—resentment that goes both ways. If the only people with any real power here are Starfleet, they're going to find ways to make us miserable because we're criminals who don't deserve to be treated as colleagues. And our crew will do everything they can to buck your authority because Starfleet has never looked out for us, so why should we listen? It'll be a war waiting to happen.

"We need to have a voice. Someone with real power who understands the unique problems we're going to face here, and who can address those problems in a way that is fair to us without entirely trampling on Starfleet protocol. Otherwise, our crew will never trust that you or your officers will treat us any differently than the rest of Starfleet has."

Janeway looked to Tuvok, who gave a single nod, then returned her gaze to me. "That sounds like a job for a counselor, no?"

"Actually, I was thinking it would be best for everyone if you..." I cleared my throat. "If you made Chakotay your first officer instead of promoting Lieutenant Commander Tuvok."

"What?" Chakotay asked.

"I'm sorry, Tuvok," I said. "I just don't think they'll accept you as their executive officer very readily—not after what you've done."

His expression remained passive. "There is no need to apologize, Miss Eelo. It is the most logical choice given the circumstances."

Janeway shot him a surprised look. "You agree with this suggestion?"

"Miss Eelo's analysis of the situation is sound, and Commander Chakotay is a qualified and able leader. I believe presenting a unified command in this way would be the best course of action for both crews. That is, of course, assuming Mister Chakotay would be willing to accept such a responsibility."

All eyes shifted to Chakotay as he looked from one person to another. His eyes fell on Janeway and he shrugged. "I'm willing if you are."

We sat in silence for a minute as Janeway considered the decision. Finally, she gave Chakotay a decisive nod. "Then it's agreed. We will integrate into one Starfleet crew. I will provisionally reinstate your former rank of commander and commission you as Voyager's first officer."

Turning her attention to me, she asked, "What about you, Miss Eelo? How would you feel about resuming your previous commission with Starfleet? We could certainly use a qualified counselor on board."

I smiled. "I would be honored, Captain."

"Well, in that case, I'll be making an entry into the ship's database that on this day I granted field commissions to Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Eelo Talia, with all of the rights, privileges, and responsibilities pertaining thereto." Smiling, she stood and extended her hand to Chakotay, then to me. "Congratulations. Welcome back to Starfleet."

"Thank you, Captain," Chakotay said wearily. "I'll inform my crew."

Our Maquis comrades were less enthusiastic about the arrangement.

"You want us to be Starfleet?" B'Elanna asked, her face full of indignation. "Are you serious?"

"Would you rather sit in the brig for seventy-five years?" Chakotay bit back.

Her lip curled into a snarl. She crossed her arms and let out a huff of air.

"You don't have to 'become Starfleet,'" I said. "If you have officer qualifications, you can regain your commission. If not, you can enlist. Or you can work as a civilian. It's your choice."

"Not much of a choice," said Kenneth Dalby, a tall Terran man with gray hair and a stick-in-the-mudd attitude. "Work for them until we die, or go to the brig until we die."

I rolled my eyes. "You won't go to the brig."

"It's not like we can go anywhere else," grumbled Chell, a Bolian engineer.

"No," Chakotay said. "You can't. So you might as well make the best of a bad situation."

Seska rested both hands on her hips, green eyes flickering between Chakotay and me. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised at Eelo'chali being so eager to get back into uniform, but I never thought I'd see you throw your support behind Starfleet again, Chakotay."

My jaw clenched.

"But, I guess it's hard to say no to the woman you're sleeping with, isn't it? I just wish there was a way to tell the general."

"Watch it, Seska," Chakotay growled.

"I wonder what would hurt more," Seska continued. "Believing her precious tahl'ral is dead or knowing how little it took to convince her own daughter to betray the Bajoran people."

"Quiet!" Chakotay roared, and several of our crewmen jumped.

I knew exactly what she was doing, and I refused to take the bait.

Sucking in a deep breath to swallow my rage, I folded my hands behind my back and lifted my chin. "Listen, I know it's not ideal, but this is the way it has to be now. The choice is still yours. You can take a job on Voyager, or you can twiddle your thumbs until we make it back to Federation space. I made my choice. Now you need to make yours."

"You will all be assigned quarters," Chakotay said. "You're not prisoners. But unless you decide to integrate into the crew, you will find your activities very restricted. These officers—" he gestured to the security team behind us— "will escort you to your new quarters. I want your decisions by 0800 tomorrow." He paused to let that sink in before barking out a stern, "Dismissed!"

For the time being, our crew was given a whole section of unused bunk rooms on the lower decks. The only one of us who had their own place was Chakotay, having immediately been moved into the XO's quarters.

Somewhere in my head, I was a bit annoyed that I hadn't been put in the counselor's quarters. Surely, Voyager had them. Every ship in the fleet had at least one.

But by the time we got everyone settled, I was too worn out to have the energy for anger anymore.

The majority of Janeway's senior officers had been killed during Voyager's quick and violent trip to the Delta Quadrant—first officer, chief of operations, chief flight controller, chief science officer, chief engineer, and chief medical officer. All were caught trying to ensure the safety of either their subordinates or the ship itself and were unable to brace for the impact in time. Most of their quarters remained empty until their things could be boxed and stored, and replacements chosen for their positions.

Apparently, we'd been lucky. Everyone from Valjean survived.

At the end of the day, Chakotay massaged my shoulders as I sat in a low-backed chair facing his private viewport. My arms were looped around my knees, holding them tightly to my chest. In my hands I held the knife that was usually concealed under my vest, fingers mindlessly tracing the scratches and designs etched into the old hilt and the strange green gem inlaid just above the guard.

Chakotay and I had hardly spoken since we left the meeting with our crew, too busy or too exhausted to say much of anything. It was a dramatic shift from the bruising kisses we'd shared only hours before.

To leave my family behind on Earth and relocate to Bajor was one thing, but it lacked the permanence of being stranded on the other side of the galaxy. Barring any sort of tragic demise, I had a good chance of still being alive in seventy-five years, but many of the crew would not be.

Neither would most of my family.

My grandmother would light a candle for me at every mass and die long before her prayer was answered. My niece and nephew would grow up with only photographs and vague memories of me. My parents would grow old and die believing that they had outlived me.

My eyes welled over with tears as the gravity of my loss settled over me like a thick cloak that threatened to swallow me whole. I tried not to show this sudden onset of grief, but my body trembled, betraying me.

Chakotay's hands slid from my shoulders and circled around me, cocooning me in his strength. He pressed a kiss into my hair and whispered simply, "I'm so sorry."

With those words, the locked box inside broke open, and I wept.

Even though Voyager had not been assigned a counselor for the mission, she was built with a counseling office located just around the corner from sickbay on deck five. I spent most of the next two days working with Tom, and sometimes Harry, who volunteered to help me move furniture and program the systems. After the last of the furniture and decorations were arranged, Tom and I stood back and examined our work with pride.

In spite of all the stress and sadness that had been weighing me down lately, I couldn't help but smile. Finally, finally, I could go back to doing what I'd wanted to do since I was seventeen.

I threw my arms around Tom. "Thank you so much."

He hesitantly squeezed me back. "Hey, don't mention it. It was no trouble. Look, Tal, I..." He pulled away. "I'm really sorry that I was helping Captain Janeway find you guys. I know I'd be pretty pissed if you had done something like that to me."

After all that had happened, my anger at his betrayal had been buried under layers of other, more important, things. "It was a dick move," I said, though I gave him a teasing smile.

He let out a breath. "Yeah, I know. It's just—"

"They offered you an early release?"

His gaze fixed on mine. "I needed to make sure you were safe."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Tom, I understand, and I forgive you. Don't beat yourself up about it."

He nodded.

"Besides, it's selfish to say, but I'm glad you're here. You're the closest thing to family that I have now."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed.

Tears pricked at my eyes, sudden and uninvited. I tried to blink them away, but they spilled onto my cheeks instead.

Family. My family. Most of whom I hadn't seen in nearly two years.

Throughout secondary school and our years at Starfleet Academy, Tom and I had been inseparable. He spent almost as much time at my house as I did back then, feeling more at ease with my family than with his own. And my family always welcomed him.

I pulled my hand from Tom's shoulder and scrubbed my face. "I miss them so much," I whispered.

"I know," he said, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. "I know."

It didn't take long for things to come to blows between B'Elanna and the highest-ranking Starfleet engineer.

I was in my office studying the psychological records of Voyager's crew when Lieutenant Commander Tuvok asked me to meet him in sickbay. As I arrived, Lieutenant Joe Carey was being helped onto a biobed by a junior engineer, blood streaming from his nose, while the EMH scanned him with a medical tricorder. Chakotay paced off to the side, clearly agitated.

I walked over to Chakotay and asked him what happened. "They had an argument," he replied, "and things got a little out of control."

Joe sat up on the biobed, ignoring protests from the EMH. "She's not just out of control. She's out of her goddamn mind!"

Tuvok entered and joined me by the surgical bay. "If you will explain what happened, Lieutenant," he said.

"She hit me is what happened!"

"Your nose is broken in three places," the EMH said. "I'll need to reset the ethmoid fossa. Try not to move."

Joe continued recounting the incident to Tuvok while I took notes on the PADD I had brought from my office. "We were having a disagreement about the power grid. She wanted to realign the lateral plasma conduit. I told her that would cause an overload. As usual, she wouldn't listen. So I told her to step aside and let me handle it. She pushed me away from the console. I pushed back. Next thing I knew, I was lying on the deck with blood pouring down my face."

"Did she say anything after she hit you?" I asked.

"She said, 'Sorry. Maybe you should go to sickbay.'"

"At least she gave you some good advice," quipped the doctor, impatiently trying to hold Joe still so he could repair the damage.

"Don't worry, Lieutenant," Chakotay said. "I'll take care of this."

"You keep that woman out of my engine room and everything will be fine!"

Chakotay and Tuvok turned to leave, but I motioned them aside. "I'm going to need to speak with B'Elanna, as well."

"I'll take care of it," Chakotay said.

"I know you will, but I still need to evaluate her."

He looked at me as if I was insane. "A psychological evaluation? Over an argument?"

"This was not merely an argument, Commander," Tuvok said. "Performing a psychological evaluation of both officers involved in an assault is Lieutenant Eelo's duty as the ship's counselor."

"It's just procedure, Tay," I reassured him.

He snorted. "This is ridiculous."

"I've already added her to my schedule," I said. "I just need you to have her report to my office at 1400 hours."

Chakotay was powerless to overrule my authority. "Fine," he snapped. With that, he and Tuvok walked out the door.

As much as I tried not to, I spent much of the day stewing on my confrontation with Chakotay. At dinner, I found him sitting alone by one of the large windows in the back. By that point, I was livid.

I strode to his table and slipped into the seat across from him, leaning in and keeping my voice low. "What the hell is your problem with me lately?"

He didn't even look up from the PADD in his hands. "Hello to you, too."

"The thing with B'Elanna—"

"You could have let me handle it."

"I don't get it," I said. "You tell us we need to act like Starfleet officers now, but then you get mad at me for following procedure. So which is it?"

"You know which."

"No, I really don't anymore."

"We're Starfleet now."

"But only if it's convenient for you, right?"

His jaw tensed. "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's you not being able to deal with the fact that you are not the one in authority here anymore."

He snorted. "I don't have any problems serving under Captian Janeway."

"I'm not talking about her. I'm talking about regulations."

Finally he looked at me, slapping the PADD on the tabletop and mirroring my pose. "Damnit, Talia! Am I really going to have this argument with you, too? I thought you of all people would understand the need to cut our crew some slack. Putting Maquis in uniform doesn't automatically make them Starfleet. Though, apparently, it did for you."

I recoiled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that the moment you put on that blue-striped jacket and walked into your pretty little office, you changed."

My jaw dropped. "So now you're going to punish me for enjoying my job? That's completely unfair!"

"What's not fair is the way no one seems to get that these people need time to adjust to a new way of doing things. I'm trying as hard as I can to look out for them. I thought you would, too."

"That is exactly what I'm doing! It's an evaluation, not a reprimand. I'm a counselor. I'm here to help. You just don't get to tell me how to do my job anymore because regs give me the power to overrule you."

"How convenient."

I scoffed. "Wow. You just won't stop trying to pin this on me and my job, will you? You have yourself convinced that my job is getting in the way of progress. But, the real problem is that you can't stand to relinquish any kind of control because you think you have the answers for everything."

Chakotay slammed his hands on the table, drawing every eye in the room towards us. "Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, goddamnit! Who are you? What happened to the strong, rational, no-bullshit, sexy pilot I knew? Because I keep looking for that woman, but I just don't recognize you anymore."

Instantly, the raging fire in my belly transformed into a blade of ice that sliced right through me. After all this time and all we'd been through, that's who I was to him. The woman I became for the Maquis.

I wasn't sure if I should be more upset with him or myself.

Shaking my head, I stood to leave. "Then you never really saw me." He didn't even try to stop me as I walked out the door.

For the first time since we'd arrived on Voyager, Chakotay and I slept in separate quarters.

That was when the nightmares began.

"What do you think, Lieutenant?" Captain Janeway asked as she skimmed my report on Joe Carey and B'Elanna's evaluations.

I frowned. "About the incident?"

She set the PADD on her desk and looked at me. "About them."

Suddenly, I had the feeling I was being given a test I hadn't studied for. "Well, I haven't done a full work-up on B'Elanna yet, and I don't know Lieutenant Carey very well. We only met to discuss the incident."

"I'm still interested in your impressions of them. Particularly Miss Torres. Commander Chakotay has been insistent that I consider her for the position of chief engineer despite her lack of officer qualifications."

I linked my hands behind my back. "Engineers don't need to be officers."

"That's true. And Mister Carey certainly has a lot to learn about thinking outside the box, which I'm given to understand Miss Torres excels at."

"She does. More than anyone I know."

Rising from her seat, Janeway circled the desk and made her way up the steps of the platform where a long couch was positioned beneath a beautiful private viewport. She turned back to me and gestured towards the couch. "Have a seat."

The invitation was a surprise, but I kept a straight face and followed her there.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked, pausing in front of a replicator.

Generally, it wasn't great form to turn down the courtesy of a commanding officer. But we'd started rationing replicator use in order to save energy, and I didn't want her using part of her precious share on me.

"Just a water, please," I said as I sat. It was the one thing that hadn't been restricted.

She nodded. "Coffee, black, and a flat water."

The replicator chirped, and the drinks materialized in the window. Janeway set them on the coffee table and sank onto the couch beside me.

"Thank you," I said, taking a sip of the water and cradling the glass in my lap.

She nodded and blew across the surface of her drink. "Here is my dilemma. I agree with Commander Chakotay that a chief engineer should be able to think quickly and creatively. And I believe that he believes Miss Torres is up to the task.

"Lieutenant Carey is by-the-book. I have no doubt Miss Torres could jury-rig circles around him. But Carey is good at his job, and he has command qualifications. He knows how to manage a team. I'm concerned that, were I to put Miss Torres in a leadership position, she may struggle to keep her department functioning in an efficient manner. She doesn't seem like someone who is comfortable letting others do things she'd rather do herself."

I chuckled. "She can be hard-headed, and she does prefer to work hands-on. But I've known plenty of officers and crewmen like that. Just like anything, it's about learning balance."

Janeway inclined her head. "That's true. I've been known to show both of those qualities from time to time. But do you think she can learn that balance quickly enough? We can't afford to have our chief engineer struggling through a slow learning curve. There's no telling what challenges we'll face out here."

I rubbed my thumb along the side of the glass, a thin coat of condensation from the cool water collecting on my skin. Setting the drink on the table, I angled my body to face the captain. "B'Elanna hasn't had an easy life. She never talks about it, but I suspect she's been treated poorly by a lot of people who should have known better. She has a chip on her shoulder the size of a galaxy-class starship, and that causes trouble sometimes.

"But she's smart, she's a quick learner, and she really does want to please people even if she tries to pretend like she doesn't. If you give her a task, she'll put every bit of herself into finishing it, and she'll do it right. In the Maquis, we all had to pitch in on repairs from time to time, and she was always patient with those of us who struggled to tell a hyperspanner from a quantum flux regulator. I think, if you give her the chance, she could be the best damn engineer Starfleet has ever seen."

One side of Janeway's mouth curled up. "That's a strong argument. So you think Miss Torres is the right choice?"

"That's not my call, Captain. I can't speak for Lieutenant Carey. He seems like a perfectly competent engineer and a fine officer. He's certainly dedicated to his work."

"He is," Janeway agreed. "But there's more to being an exceptional chief engineer than that." She lifted the coffee to her lips. "You can see my dilemma."

"I can." I took a sip of my water and set it back on the table. "My dad once told me that part of being a good senior staff member is adding something to the team no one else has, something that works well for the captain's unique personality and leadership style. Joe might seem like the obvious choice for that, but I suspect B'Elanna might have more of what you're looking for."

"How so?"

"Out of all the people you could have asked to help you track a Maquis ship, you picked Tom—a disgraced admiral's son with a record as long as my master's thesis and a lifetime of untapped potential. When we left Ocampa to start making our way back home, the first thing you did was talk to Chakotay and me about combining our crews. And when I suggested you make Chakotay your first officer, you didn't laugh me out of the room.

"We don't really know each other yet, Captain, but you strike me as someone who likes a challenge and wants to develop potential in others. And if that's true, I think B'Elanna will be your best bet."

This time, Janeway's smile was a full one. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll keep your recommendation in mind. It seems I certainly made a good bet on you."

My cheeks grew warm. "Thank you, Captain. That means a lot."

She set her mug on the table. "Speaking of making bets, I noticed in your record that you have a degree in xenolinguistics."

I huffed a laugh. "Yes. It was something of a hobby. My parents worked closely with the Klingons, and I picked up a lot of Klingonese while I was growing up. Everyone told me I had an ear for languages, and it seemed like a helpful skill for the diplomatic side of a deep space counselor's job. Not sure I'd call a double-major a bet, though."

"That wasn't what I meant." She crossed one knee over the other and reclined against the couch, draping an arm across the back. "Your primary duty on board is as the ship's counselor. While I realize that job alone will be enough of a challenge in the weeks and months ahead, I also entered you into the system as Voyager's xenolinguistics expert. I hadn't yet chosen one when this mission crossed my desk, and I don't like leaving positions open.

"With two undergraduate and one advanced degree in scientific fields, and two years of experience in an eclectic array of tasks during your time in the Maquis, I've decided to make you my chief science officer."

Every neuron in my brain seemed to freeze at once. Chief science officer. I was a counselor, and she wanted me to be a chief science officer. The silence stretched on for far longer than it should have, but how was I supposed to respond to that?

I took a deep breath and let it out all at once. "I... I don't know what to say."

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as if thinking about how to answer my confusion. "I believe the proper response is 'Thank you, sir.' But I've never really liked being called, 'sir.'"

A laugh bubbled up before I could stop it. "I'm... sorry." I cleared my throat. "I mean, thank you, Captain. But—"

She raised an eyebrow. "That is definitely not a proper response."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, it's just..." I ran a hand over my mouth. "There are officers here with PhDs in hard sciences. Why choose me?"

"I think you're right for the job," she said simply, as if it were self-evident. "Besides, I seem to recall someone telling me how important it is to put members of your crew in positions of authority."

I bobbed my head and breathed out another laugh. "Yes, I think I heard something about that."

"I've assigned you the chief science officer's quarters on deck four. They're a bit larger than the quarters reserved for ship's counselor. You can move in as soon as your shift ends. Tomorrow, I'll show you your other office and acquaint you with your division."

My division.

Squaring my shoulders, I met Janeway's gaze and said as firmly as I could, "Thank you, Captain. I won't let you down."

Two days later, B'Elanna became Voyager's chief engineer.