Conflict of Interest

Source Episodes: VOY 01x10 Prime Factors, 01x11 State of Flux

Personal Log, Eelo Talia: Stardate 48650.3

For the past several days, the crew has been enjoying the hospitality of a planet called Sikaris, whose people offered us free shore leave. We dubbed it "Risa in the Delta Quadrant," because it is an absolute paradise where the people value pleasure, art, and stories above all else.

I think Tom and I may have traumatized poor Harry, though. When the local women we were spending the day with took us to their nude beach, we stripped off our clothes and jumped right in. I've never seen him turn so red. He still can't look at me without blushing.

We're back on course for the Alpha Quadrant now, and I'm about to get started on my first big assignment—crew evaluations. Most of the crew won't be due for several more months, since Starfleet did evaluations prior to the start of Voyager's mission to the badlands. But the Maquis had no such work up.

Due to the rush to get the mission underway, neither did Tom.

Crew evaluations are, of course, a collaborative effort between the ship's head counselor and first officer. Given that Chakotay and I are also Maquis—and that we haven't exactly seen eye-to-eye in how best to integrate them into Janeway's crew—this is going to be a very interesting experience to say the least.

"How well do you think you're doing at your job here on Voyager?" I asked Tom—my first evaluation of the bunch.

"Oh, I definitely think I've got things down here," Tom replied with assurance. "Don't get me wrong, I was pretty wound up with Starfleet when Captain Janeway came to see me at the penal colony, but that's all behind me now. There's no way they'll want to cut me loose when we get back. Not after this."

"So, if we got home today, would you want to go back to Starfleet?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"But you're more confident in your ability to be a productive member of society now?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm telling you, Tal, the worst is behind me. I've got you and Harry, a ship full of people who are lonely for company, and I get to pilot the Federation's most advanced starship through uncharted space. What more could I ask for?"

"Why don't you tell me, Tom? What else would you want if you could ask for it?"

"Well, it would be nice if the junior engineers weren't such complete fucking idiots," B'Elanna groused. "I mean, how hard is it to realign a plasma coil? That's basic! What the hell are they even doing for four years at the academy?"

"How do you deal with it when they make mistakes on simple jobs?"

"It depends. I usually ask one of the other engineers to show them the right way to do it."

"Do you ever lose your temper at your personnel?"

She snorted. "Of course I lose my temper with them sometimes! You know how I am, and you wouldn't believe some of the idiotic things they do. But, I try not to let them bother me, and I'd like to think I'm getting better at it."

"Why do you think it's been difficult for you to adjust to this new way of doing things?"

Lon shook his head. "Oh no, you're mistaken, Talia. I'm not having any trouble at all. I feel no anger or bitterness towards any of them. They're only doing their job. And B'Elanna being the chief helps to balance things out between Starfleet and Maquis."

"So you think the personnel in engineering are coping well?"

"Absolutely. You have nothing to worry about there."

"Have you ever come into conflict with anyone else, even over little things?"

"Not once."

There had to be something to this guy. I had seen first-hand the rage he kept inside, only released in battle with Cardassians. "No latent feelings of anger towards anyone?"

He remained completely cool. "None at all."

"No violent impulses?"

"Do you worry about me, Little Eelo? You did your best to hide it, and you did what you had to do, but I knew you didn't have the head for violence, not like your mother. Everyone saw what they wanted to see in you, but I saw the truth. You despised the Cardassians, but you never wanted them to die."

"That's very perceptive, Lon. I thought you said you never learned how to distinguish your telepathic sensory input from your other senses?"

"It's not something I felt from you. I could see it in your eyes."

That caught my attention. I wondered if his brain confused visual and empathetic sensory input. "Do you often get a strong sense of people by looking at them?"

"Sometimes, all I have to do is look at them, and I know they still don't trust us." Seska studied my face just as intently as I studied hers. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Eelo'chali, your little plan to integrate the crews is working better than most of us thought it would. But don't think for a second that it's going to last. We'll always be criminals in Starfleet's eyes. Even you won't be safe when it falls apart, no matter how much you cozy up to Captain Janeway."

I laced my fingers in my lap to keep from clenching my fists. "What makes you say that?"

Seska shrugged. "I just know. If you pay close enough attention, you can see it. Well—" She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you can't. You Terrans growing up in your paradise on Earth don't understand people the same way we do."

"Who is 'we?'"

"People like me, of course."

"As in, people who grew up with pressures like war, oppression, and poverty?"

She snorted. "Pressures? You think war and starvation are pressures? You think slavery or torture or rape are pressures? Watching your friends and family die around you? What do you know of real pressure, Starfleet?"

"You're right, Seska, 'pressure' is an inappropriate word. I apologize." I paused, inwardly cursing myself for such thoughtless language. "This is the first time I recall you saying anything about your family. Would you like to tell me more about them?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Okay, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Let's talk about your off-duty time. Do you believe that you're building positive relationships with others here?"

"I already have all the relationships I need. Jad. Will. B'Elanna. Chakotay." She paused to watch me for a reaction, but I offered none. "Although B'Elanna has been spending time with Tom and Harry, so I'm getting to know them." She laughed. "Well, I already knew Tom before, but prison changes people. It'll be nice to get reacquainted."

Another pause—this time accompanied by a haughty smile. She knew my history with Tom.

Seska had always enjoyed pushing people's buttons, whether for fun or manipulation. But this was a whole new level. And right now, it was working.

My blood boiled.

Seska crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "Are we done now? I have real work to do."

"I can't do it," I confessed to Captain Janeway. After writing up notes on my session with Seska, I marched straight up to the captain's ready room. My hands were shaky and sweating. I clenched them into fists. "This isn't going to work."

"Slow down, Lieutenant," Janeway said. "Have a seat. What can you not do?"

My job, was all I could think. My jaw locked up. I perched on the edge of a chair in front of the captain's desk. My leg jiggled. I thought about stopping it, but I needed the release.

With my thumb, I traced the outline of a scar at the center of my palm. A memory flashed through my mind—Seska looking down at me as my sluggish brain struggled to make sense of what just happened. I was so far beyond pain, and had lost so much blood, I couldn't comprehend anything anymore.

All I wanted was for it to be over.

She sighed with exasperation, then retrieved my knife and secured it in her belt.

"We've gotta go," she'd said, circling behind my head and wrapping her hands around my armpits. "This won't be comfortable."

"Lieutenant?" Janeway's voice cut into my thoughts, pulling me back into the present. Her face was was pinched with concern.

I stuffed both hands under my thighs.

"Seska," I said. "I can't evaluate her."

"Would you care to explain why?"

Because I hated her. Because I'd gained so much respect in the cell so quickly despite not having nearly the same stakes in the war that she did. Because she'd clearly never gotten over Chakotay, and we resented each other's relationship with him.

Because she saved my life and I'd never be able repay her for it.

"It's complicated."

"I'm going to need more of an explanation than that."

I met her sharp gaze. "I promise, Captain, it has nothing to do with our duty. It won't interfere with our ability to serve Voyager."

She folded her hands. "Seems to me that it already has."

"It's private." My voice sounded so small. A plea for mercy.

The captain pursed her lips. I had put her in a difficult spot. It wasn't as if she could simply assign the task to someone else. No one was qualified to do it except for me. The EMH could provide medical treatment for psychiatric conditions, but he lacked the clinical training and experience—not to mention the emotional intelligence—necessary to assess their emotional well-being.

Janeway needed an explanation. She deserved one. She was the captain, after all.

"It's a counselor's duty to terminate services if the relationship will be detrimental to the client." I swallowed hard. "Seska and I—" How could I possibly explain? "Chakotay was in a relationship with Seska briefly before he and I—ah, no. I'm making him sound bad. It wasn't that simple. He didn't—"

Janeway held up a hand. "I don't need to know the details, Lieutenant. Are you trying to tell me that there's bad blood between you and Crewman Seska?"

I nodded. "I cannot, in good conscience, submit an evaluation of her for the record. I'm sorry, Captain."

She nodded. "I understand. Thank you for coming to me. This is a difficult situation for all of us. I expected there to be some bumps along the way, but I believe that honesty and open communication will go a long way in smoothing these things out. I know you're doing your best, Lieutenant."

On the surface of an uninhabited M-class planet, Kes and I were getting an education from Voyager's botanist, Dr. Mona Klegglachen, when Chakotay's voice came over the comm. "All units, report to transport site immediately."

It took a few minutes for everyone to pack up and make their way to the coordinates. Our group was the second to arrive. Neelix's was the last.

As Chakotay commed the transporter room, I double-checked each unit's headcount. Neelix's group was one short.

I tapped my combadge. "Eelo to Seska."

No response.

I exchanged a glance with Chakotay, who stepped up beside me. "Transporter room one," he called, "can you locate Crewman Seska's combadge?"

"Negative, Commander," came the reply. "No sign of her."

Harry joined us. "She was picking berries with our group over by the hillside. There were caves nearby."

"If she went inside one," Chakotay mused, "it might be blocking her combadge signal." He glanced from Harry to me. "The rest of you get back to the ship. I'm going to look for her."

I raised an eyebrow. "Alone?"

We all knew that one-man missions went against Starfleet protocol. Chakotay sighed.

"She was in my unit," Neelix said. "I'll help you find her, Commander."

After returning to Voyager, we learned why Captain Janeway had had cut the food-gathering mission short. There was a Kazon ship hiding in orbit of the planet. Although the vessel did not attack, Chakotay, Neelix and Seska did get into a brief firefight with two Kazon in the cave where they found Seska hiding. Neelix suffered minor injuries, but no real harm was done.

Or, so it seemed.

That evening, Captain Janeway called all senior staff and Neelix to the bridge. Voyager had recieved a general distress call from a Kazon vessel in serious trouble.

As I made my way to the science station, Tuvok reported, "The ship's dimensions are identical to the vessel we encountered at the planet. It is a Kazon-Nistrim ship."

"Captain," Neelix warned, "this may be a trap. The Kazon-Nistrim is one of the most violent sects in the entire Kazon collective."

On the viewscreen, the recorded image of a Kazon man looped over again. "We need immediate assistance. We have lost all bridge operations. Barely able to function. Please assist."

The captain paused for a moment to watch the man on the viewer. She turned to Harry at ops. "Mister Kim, can you determine that this ship has sustained genuine damage?"

Harry took some quick measurements at his console. "There are fluctuating nucleonic patterns. It might indicate a reactor breakdown on board."

Janeway looked to Tom. "Mister Paris, run an extended scanner sequence to identify any other Kazon ships that might be in the area."

The bridge fell silent as Tom completed the task. "Nothing showing up, Captain."

"Maintain scans and set a heading to intercept."

"New heading entered."

Crossing to where Neelix stood, Janeway adopted a gentler tone. "I take your warning seriously, Neelix, and we will act with caution. But if we can help them, we should. Besides," she added, glancing to Chakotay, "this may be an opportunity to make a friend. And, out here, we can use all the friends we can get."

Neelix nodded. "I understand, Captain."

Janeway smiled and turned to the center of the bridge. "It'll be several hours before we reach them. I suggest we get some rest between now and then."

Upon our dismissal, I followed Chakotay back to his quarters. "It's strange," I mused.

He keyed the entry code into the small panel beside his door. "What's that?"

"A ship from the most violent Kazon sect shows up, alone, to hide behind sensor tricks and do nothing while we pick berries and dig up roots."

Chakotay shuddered a bit at my mention of the Delta Quadrant's most ubiquitous superfood—the leola root. It was disgusting.

I flopped on the couch. "Then, we run across an identical ship from the same sect, sending out a general distress call."

Chakotay shrugged, settling beside me. "We're probably in Nistrim territory."

"Then why not send a distress call to other Nistrim ships? No, something isn't right here. Doesn't this seem a bit coincidental to you?"

"Alright," he admitted. "It does seem suspicious."

I sighed, stretching my body across the couch and resting my head on Chakotay's lap. "Captain Janeway needs to learn how to temper her Starfleet altruism with some cold, hard reality."

He stroked my hair. "Like you did when you joined the Maquis?"

I chuckled and nodded. "Right." With my next inhalation came the faint scent of something familiar—something repulsive. I cast my eyes around the room until I saw a metal bowl on the dinner table.

Mushroom soup.

On the planet, Seska had wandered into a cave to gather mushrooms. Clearly, she used those mushrooms to make Chakotay a bowl of his favorite soup while Neelix was in sickbay. It was distasteful, considering that Neelix had been wounded rescuing her from the Kazon. If not for that, Seska never would have gained access to his kitchen.

Two spoons laid beside the bowl, used. Chakotay and Seska must have been eating when Captain Janeway called senior staff to the bridge.

It wasn't that I felt jealous over Chakotay's attention. But I would be damned if I let Seska sink her claws into Chakotay ever again.

Relying on one of the most powerful tools at my disposal, I shifted onto my knees, straddled Chakotay's lap, and took his mouth with mine. Piece by piece, I did away with our uniforms and their prescribed Federation ideals. This was reality, naked and flawed and so much closer to the soul than those uniforms could ever be.

Yeah, so I played dirty. I wanted to be damn sure that no amount of homemade mushroom soup could ever make Chakotay forget who really had his back. No matter how often we fought, or how strongly we disagreed, it could never change the most basic tenet of our relationship.

Chakotay and I always looked out for each other.

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the smell of stale mushroom soup. It instantly made me nauseous. I opened my eyes, and there was only darkness. The hum of generators provided low level background noise. Where was I, and how had I gotten there? I couldn't remember anything. I moved to push myself up, but screamed at the searing pain in my hands.

A door whooshed open—where was I that had mechanized doors?—and white light spilled into the room as a man rushed to my bedside.

"Talia!" Chakotay sounded panicked. "Lights, thirty percent. What happened? Are you okay?" He reached for me, but I recoiled.

In the dim light, I was able to see my hands. I expected blood and gore, or dirty bandages, but only scars marred the center of my otherwise normal palms. I gaped at Chakotay.

"Talia," he said, expression shifting from terror to sadness, "you're safe. We're on Voyager now, remember? They can't hurt you anymore."

After nearly four months of this, Chakotay had become familiar with the nightmares, sleeplessness, and irritability. He wasn't aware of other things—like how I noticed every little move people made, how I hated his breath on my face, how my worsening relationship with Seska always brought me back to the night she saved me.

But he did know exactly what was in my mind when I fidgeted with, or stared at, my hands.

I panted, trying to separate the past from the present. Voyager. I was on Voyager, in Chakotay's quarters. I had a dream about something that happened months prior, but it was over. I was not in danger anymore.

So why did I feel threatened?

Pulling my mouth closed, I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths. Usually, that helped to ground me and calm me down. Instead, my stomach lurched, and I retched. Nothing came up, though the sour taste of acid crept up the back of my throat.

Mushroom soup. I smelled stale mushroom soup.

As soon as the realization struck me, I was right back in the Maquis medical ward where I'd woken up after that one, horrible mission. Seska had brought mushroom soup to Chakotay while he waited for surgeons to put my mangled body back together, but he abandoned it when the nurses wheeled me into the recovery room. In all his worry, the soup was forgotten.

Later, when I surfaced enough to remember being awake but not enough to be free of my nightmares, the smell of stale mushroom soup lingered in the air.

Now it was everywhere... and so was Korma. And Seska. And the Cardassian who haunted my dreams.

Scrambling to my feet, I collected my clothes from the floor and yanked them on. It wasn't safe. Not safe. I had to get out of there.

Chakotay grabbed my arm. "Talia, wait—"

Wrenching free from his grasp, I shoved him back. "Get away from me!"

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Don't you get it?" I spat, pulling on the last of my uniform. "You already have!" I stormed towards the entryway, knocking the bowl and its contents from the dinner table on my way out.

As his door shut behind me, I paused in the corridor to catch my breath. Clean air rushed into my lungs and soothed the churning in my stomach.

Goddamn Seska, Chakotay and their fucking mushroom soup.