Episode One - Crazy Old Man

Chapter 9
Alright After All

Mahesh looked around his new office, tucked away next to Diagnostics on Deck 2 across the hall from Main Engineering. He never thought he'd have anything like this on a starship. He would have to go to a planet or starbase to have this much authority… and it was why he was still on starships at this point in his career, despite all recommendations to the contrary.

Despite Natalia wondering when he was going to finally put in at port and stay.

Mahesh had to think about her now. He had no doubt she was at home on Deep Space Nine mourning him with their children right now. They believed he was dead, and that was just as well.

When they were kids, they stayed together on starships where he was assigned. Mahesh would be transferred and she'd just go with him. They stopped doing that a few years ago. Their kids were only just starting to put down the tiniest roots of their own, and Natalia was hoping for something new since they'd raised their kids as 'fleet brats. She wanted to stay in one place for a little while. Her choice was Earth, but Mahesh had his reservations.

Now she could do whatever she wanted, and he wished he'd retired when she asked him. At twenty, Amala was so grown up now, in school for design. Hari scared the hell out of him with his typical teenaged sense of invincibility, and, worse, dragged Ravi into his schemes along with him. Mahesh hoped Hari went to Starfleet Academy, though. He'd make a hell of a captain.

Mahesh knew it was a mistake, but he pulled up his computer and looked into the holoimages he kept in his personal files. There were so many pictures of him and his family in here—

The door chimed and Mahesh backed out of the image gallery. "Come."

Ensign Vorik stood at the door, stepped in when it opened. "I trust I'm not interrupting?"

"No, sit down." Mahesh gestured at the single chair on the other side of his desk in the cramped room. Everything on the Defiant was cramped.

He watched the Vulcan take a seat, sit as straight as ever, and look a bit confused at his having done so. "May I have access to the maintenance schedule? I would like to begin maintenance tasks as soon as possible."

Knowing he was about to ask a stupid question had never stopped Mahesh. "Don't you want to take a few hours?"

"For what purpose?"

Mahesh shrugged. If he was lucky, if he managed to survive the entire seventy years home, he might have another twenty years. Plus or minus. Given the inevitable stress of being engineering chief on a cruise that long—he was betting on the minus end. His daughter would be ninety by the time he got home. His grandchildren could have grandchildren.

"Sort out your thoughts." Mahesh sighed. "Meditate. Whatever."

Ensign Vorik nodded a bit distantly. "The concern is appreciated. I am relatively unaffected, and leaving Engineering unsupervised is against protocol."

Mahesh spun his screen around so Vorik could see the six graphs displaying various engineering subsystems, all in the green. "I'm supervising." Granted, from a near distance. He was two doors away. But it was running smoothly and the ship wasn't moving. He would be back in Engineering just once he collected his thoughts. These PADDs.

"Yes, sir. If you're ordering me to—"

"No, no, it's whatever you want. But if you want my advice, Ensign?" Mahesh turned the screen back toward himself. "Take the time. I don't know when the next time you'll get a few free hours will be. Between you and me—that's it. We are engineering." He hoped Vorik didn't take his ignoring Ensign Ballard wrong.

She would be very helpful to them. Just not right now. Maybe not even soon. Better than the Maquis that would inevitably be assigned to him to figure out, but that wasn't exactly the most difficult bar to clear…

Vorik nodded contemplatively. "The loss of Chief Taussig is regrettable. As well as the others…"

That was an understatement. Engineering's location squarely in the back of the Defiant, as well as the lack of stabilizing capabilities even under the ship's own warp, did the crew no favors. Of the eighteen crew killed, ten of them had been their immediate peers and commanders.

"If you would like, sir," Vorik said a moment later, "you may… take the time. I will supervise Engineering. Begin maintenance tasks."

Mahesh chuckled. "I guess I don't need to ask what your coping mechanism is."

Vorik seemed confused, but didn't otherwise respond.

He sighed. "No. No, I'm just downloading a few things." He tapped his PADD, and looked at his personal file directory. "Then I'm headed back to keep an eye on things and work out schedules. Go get some tea or something."

Vorik hesitated, maybe about to argue. But he didn't. "Yes, sir." With a nod, he rose and left.

Mahesh knew he was being stupid. A Human, or a Bajoran, or literally anyone other than a Vulcan would be on the precipice of hating him. For some reason, he wanted to put that off even though he knew it would never happen—because Vorik was a Vulcan and he wouldn't develop any negative feelings toward him at all. It was impossible. But that didn't mean that Mahesh wanted to put anybody through what they were about to have to do.

After all, Mahesh didn't have a lot of choices. He'd cut into Vorik's work time with Lyndsay's schedule where possible, but she needed supervision whenever she was there—and then there were the Maquis. The only people capable of supervising technically on the Engineering staff were himself and Vorik—and him only by his merit of being right on the edge of promotion. They would be working over ninety-hour weeks, and Mahesh didn't see that changing for at least a year.

Mahesh was tired just thinking about it. The worst part was that Vorik was more physically capable than Mahesh was of maintaining that level of work for long. It was unfair it worked out that Mahesh would crumble from the physical stress and psychological pressure much quicker, only to transfer a share of that stress and pressure over to the local organic version of an automaton.

Mahesh had worked with plenty of Vulcans in his years. He knew none of that was true: they weren't emotionless, invincible, machines. But if Vorik was like any of them, he'd do his damnedest to make sure it looked like he was.

Mahesh had already chatted briefly with Tuvok about it. Riker was head of his own department and facing some of the same problems. Commander Dax was being pulled in twelve different ways for her extensive experience. But really, that was it. This was all he had to work with.

And he didn't even have that lovely, supportive smile on the other side of a comm channel to complain to anymore. No one to tell him that he could make it work even when there was no reason to say that. No one to tell him when he'd pushed too hard and needed to back off.

He downloaded his crew roster, the maintenance schedule Vorik had been talking about, the list as long as his arm of things not-quite-right with the Defiant, and his most recent holoimage of his family to his PADDs. He left his office and went back to Engineering. Besides one of the Remans guarding the cloaking device, it was deserted.

It would practically be deserted every day. Besides Vorik and Ballard, he had the Maquis crew of Torres, Jor, Jonas, Tabor, and Suder. It would be a pathetic lineup even if all of them were experienced or educated.

It was too depressing to dwell on. "Hey." Mahesh gave the Reman a distant nod. Mahesh had learned her name was Sulla, and that was it.

She nodded back as if confused. "Hello."

"What do you think is going to happen if you leave the cloaking device defenseless for a few hours?" he asked, unable to help his lopsided smile.

Sulla looked at the panel behind which the cloaking device had been integrated to the Defiant's power systems. "Nothing would happen," she said with a tone of annoyed assurance. "But I will not abandon my post simply because it seems my post is unneeded."

"So, what's the guard rotation you and Marius have worked out?" Mahesh asked, laying out his PADDs on the warp console side-by-side. "Because I've been doing the math on that myself, and I don't think I can keep that up for seventy years."

"Humans are weak."

And that. "Well, sure. I'll give out before you will. But I don't know if even you—"

"My people are born for working under harsh conditions in the Reman dilithium mines. It is a life of hard labor with no hope of reprieve except death," Sulla said, her eyes on him in a black disinterest. "That would be difficult. This is inconvenient. Tedious."

"Well, there you go, then. This is practically Risa," Mahesh grumbled. Something occurred to him and he glanced back up. "Are you and Marius…? You know, a couple?"

"A couple." Sulla sneered and looked away from Mahesh. "We have worked together for many decades under many different commanders. We are a matched set with compatible skills and balanced tactical outlooks. We each provide what the other cannot."

Mahesh smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Take it however you wish."

"But you aren't engineers?" Mahesh went on, almost wishing he could add one of them to his roster. After all, how much worse could it possibly be?

"No. However, I have been well-educated."

To Mahesh's shock, she left her post beside the panel and came to stand across the console from him.

"What do you require?"

"Nothing," he said, unsure why he was suddenly nervous. "Don't you need to guard the cloak?"

"I could easily kill you from anywhere in this room before you opened the panel," she said.

"So you're essentially volunteering to be an engineer during your guard shift?"

Sulla frowned. "I am physically capable of calibrating phaser locks and rotating anodyne relays. I am volunteering to fill the role of… I believe you call them technicians."

He didn't need that reminder that he was missing everything needed to make this ship run. "That's… that's nice of you."

"Our interests are mutual. Cooperation is the only method by which we may survive. Remans are not as… distrustful as we may seem, despite close association with Romulans." Sulla eyed him, then his PADDs. "The only people we truly distrust are, in fact, Romulans."

Mahesh had to laugh, and Sulla even seemed happy about it.

"What are you doing?"

"Working out the schedule." He picked up the crew roster and, after a moment's hesitation, added Sulla's name to it. "Sulla," he murmured to himself, and looked at her.

She nodded. In approval, he guessed.

Mahesh didn't know how to respond to that. "Alright, well, when do you normally stand guard? Is it regular or just… when Marius can't?"

"We have split the time. I watch the last eight-point-seven-five hours of the day." She nodded toward his PADD, adding, "Marius works the first watch. He also possesses the requisite intellect and physical capability for menial tasks."

Mahesh wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a dig at Marius, so he didn't laugh. He did smile, though. That was two whole shifts—and the overnight shifts, though he wasn't sure the arbitrary lines of "day" and "night" would matter when there weren't chronometers to synch with starbases. If T'Rul was equally willing to fill in on maintenance… it wouldn't be terrible.

It would still be terrible.

But it would be okay.

It could be worse.

With a nod, he put that in, and smiled at her. "Alright, well… looks like this is a good start to the evening shift."

#

Chakotay was almost comfortable, leaning back in his chair like this, just staring at the ceiling.

He'd never felt so trapped in his life. He'd spent the majority of his career on starships despite an old interest in digging around in the dirt, on a planet, outside. It was a small wonder to him he wasn't claustrophobic, but that was a rare trait to find in a Human not born on Earth.

Oh. That hadn't occurred to Chakotay before this moment. There would be kids on this ship. No way Chakotay was going to stop anybody from starting a family here if they wanted to. Hell, it might be good for morale overall. Children were the quintessential emblem of life moving on, the sparkling hope of a brighter future. And coupling was a great stress reliever.

He could think about that later.

He figured he'd have a little while to worry about that. In the meantime, he had to worry about keeping this ship and crew together. He kept thinking about the Caretaker, his final admission that he'd destroyed the Ocampa's world and felt responsible… and here Chakotay was, having done the same thing. It made sense to him.

At least he'd only done that to about forty people. He felt morally justified.

Still felt like shit.

The crew weren't his children, but they may as well be. He'd brought them here with his hubris, stranded them with his ethics, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to get them back home on some combination of his determination and hopefully a little bit of luck. And to think a few days ago he'd felt so self-righteous in his hopes to turn traitor.

The worst part was, Chakotay still thought he was right. A little bit. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't.

It had been about two hours since he'd unceremoniously trapped the two crews of the Defiant and the Valjean here, and Tuvok had sent him a message that the whole crew had been informed. Contrary to Chakotay's initial assumptions about the man, he'd given the entire crew time to sort out their thoughts on the matter.

Chakotay knew that translated for many of them to weeping, screaming, hitting things… A crew full of Bajorans and Humans weren't likely to have an average trending more toward Vulcan. Chakotay didn't know why he wasn't reacting more violently. Maybe because there wasn't anything in here to break? Or just because he was the one to make this bed: it only made sense if he would lie in it quietly.

More likely because Chakotay didn't have any family anymore. Not anyone who he'd be happy to see or who would be happy to see him. He closed his eyes and tried not to wonder too hard what his father would think of all the things he'd done lately.

Chakotay sure wasn't winning any popularity contests in the near future.

With a sigh, he rose and looked around the office. It was incredibly small and maybe a waste of space, ultimately. But he knew he'd be glad for it in the years ahead. He'd decorate, maybe. Try to make it look like he'd settled in for the crew's sake.

It was a long and shameful walk to the bridge, even though it was just down the hallway. Tuvok rose when he stepped on the bridge, yielded the chair as if he'd gotten over any qualms he might have had.

Chakotay was sure those qualms were just seriously repressed. "Thanks, Tuvok," he said, and nodded at Dax, Worf, and Julian in turn as he sat.

Chakotay was outnumbered.

Well, if there was a mutiny, it probably wouldn't be Tuvok's idea.

"I think I need to address the crew," Chakotay said, and then looked at Dax. "I assume you've plotted a course for home?" he asked.

The Trill smiled sadly, and nodded. "I sure have, Captain."

He wasn't sure he'd ever be okay with being called captain anymore, but he wasn't about to take that away from this roomful of people who needed that from someone. Tuvok would be better. Hell, even Worf, even though Chakotay wasn't all that assured he had the ability to command a vessel at this point in his career.

He would, though. He would really quickly.

"Thanks." With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on his knees. "I want to talk to you all first, though. I'll talk to Mahesh later."

"Us?" Julian looked around, like maybe he hadn't been told that Chakotay was a Maquis traitor.

He'd figure it out. "Yeah. My senior staff. I know you don't have any reason to trust me, and I'm sorry everything went the way it did. If you four think any of you would be better as captain, I'll back whatever decision you make."

The four of them exchanged glances, like maybe they'd already talked about this.

"I think you're the best choice for captain," Dax said, and at his questioning glance, she shrugged. "Sure, you've made some… questionable decisions in the past few months. But I think we're all on the same page now, at least."

"She's right," Julian said, with a weak smile. "The rest of us might not be… exactly excited. But even if you took those pips off your collar, but you can't change the fact that that you've earned them. And, let's face it: the Maquis crew wouldn't be nearly as quick to accept any of us as captain."

"You're not the best of both worlds," Dax put in. "But you are from both worlds."

Tuvok nodded. "It seems the most logical course of action at this point. If Mister Worf has no objections, I would consider the senior staff in unanimous agreement. Assuming we intend to select a captain by reason of democracy." He hesitated, then added, "I also assume Thomas would have no objections."

"If he does, you guys outnumber him." Telling Riker he'd been democratically elected to captain by a crew of Starfleet officers sounded like a hilarious conversation he couldn't wait to have. "I guess all that's left to say is… I hope I can earn your trust."

"Oh, I'll be watching closely," Dax said, thought there was almost a joke to her tone. She looked like she was mostly there.

"I'm sure you all will." He leaned forward onto his knees for a moment, thinking of one other thing he had to address. "I'll also need a first officer."

Everyone exchanged glances, except Tuvok. He probably had every reason to believe it would be anyone but him. "Any thoughts?" Dax asked with a small shrug. "Because I only see good choices."

Chakotay smiled. "You're right. But I think Lieutenant Tuvok—if you're willing—is my first choice."

Tuvok blinked at him, and Chakotay couldn't help the near chuckle at the expression of surprise. "Captain?"

"I'd expect you to respect my authority, but keep me in line. No matter what you may think of me, I still consider myself a Starfleet officer." Chakotay paused to make sure he meant that, and absorb the surprise from everyone else in the room. His own surprise probably surpassed theirs. "I expect the judgement from my court martial can wait until we get back?"

Finally, Tuvok nodded. "I will endeavor to be worthy of the appointment."

"Alright then." Chakotay gave Tuvok a glance before settling back in his chair and pressing the button to broadcast a ship-wide message. "Crew of the Defiant, this is… your captain. I know this has been a hell of a day, so I'll keep this brief. We're alone seventy-thousand lightyears from home in an uncharted part of the galaxy, and even at maximum speeds it will take us seventy-five years to get home. We've made some friends, and we've made some enemies. We have no idea what's ahead of us, but I do know what's behind us: we're not two crews anymore. We're not Maquis and Starfleet. We're the Defiant. From here on out, it's just us. We'll be looking for faster ways home, worm holes, spatial rifts, new technologies… but if we can't work together, we may as well stay right here. We'll be headed out of this system soon, so report to your stations and leave all the problems you may have with each other back in the Alpha Quadrant. We can sort all this out when we get home."

He tapped the key again, and let out the last of the breath he'd taken to get through that last bit.

They'd need more than that to keep everyone in line. He trusted the Maquis to speak their minds, and he trusted Starfleet to try to avoid a conflict. He expected that to be wearing on both sides after a while.

Maybe after just a couple of days.

"Dax, can you take conn?" Chakotay asked.

"That doesn't sound like an order," Julian cautioned.

"It wasn't. A few minutes isn't going to make much of a difference."

The door to the bridge opened again, this time admitting Neelix and Kes. Neelix and Kes had both changed clothing—Chakotay was sure they'd replicated something for Kes, but had no idea that a pattern such as the one on Neelix's double-breasted jacket was available.

"Oh, Mister Neelix," Chakotay said, glancing at Tuvok. "Did we get you the water we promised?"

"Yes, you see, that's what we wanted to discuss." Neelix glanced at Kes for a second.

Kes seemed unable to contain herself as she looked at Chakotay, her hands clasped as if pleading like a small child. "We'd like to go with you!"

"I'm sorry?" Chakotay didn't mean to phrase that as a question, and redirected. "This isn't a passenger ship."

"We'd be valuable colleagues," Neelix added quickly. "Whatever you need is what I have to offer. You need a guide? I'm your guide. You need a cook? You haven't lived until you've tasted my angla'bosque. You need supplies? I know where to procure them. I have friends among races you don't even now exist."

Chakotay was beginning to realize he was right when he thought the cut of his jacket seemed particularly… artificially elegant. Chakotay wasn't sure he wanted a used cargo ship salesman on board, but he was right about his familiarity with the region, at least.

Neelix was still talking. "It will be my job to anticipate your needs before you have them—and I anticipate your first need will be me." He winked.

"Alright, well…?"

Tuvok seemed put-out by the whole idea.

"Captain, we both want very much to be a part of your journey," Kes said, her smile as quiet as her voice.

"How could I say no?" Chakotay wondered.

Tuvok arched an eyebrow because, of course, Chakotay was perfectly capable of saying no.

#

Kes looked over her shoulder and nodded to Neelix. "I'll catch up to you in the mess hall."

Neelix nodded, but he looked confused. Everyone on the bridge did. Neelix left anyway, leaving Kes alone with what felt like a whole new family she'd only just met. She looked directly to Captain Chakotay, who was looking at her expectantly.

"Yes?" he asked, almost gently.

Kes got the feeling that he was, actually: a gentle man with simple dreams that should have come easily. "The universe is a cruel place," she said, and smiled a bit in embarrassment since that probably sounded like a non-sequitur. "I'm very young, but I know that there aren't many people out there who would do what you did for my people. I hope one day I'll be able to thank you."

His smile was likewise dim. "No thanks necessary."

But it was necessary. She wasn't sure how, yet, but she was sure someday she would. He would understand then. So she just smiled and shook her head. "I know this is going to be difficult for all of you, and I'm sure bringing Neelix and me along isn't the first thing you wanted to do… but I know we can all help each other. It seems like that's what you do."

Chakotay's brief glance at his austere first officer wasn't lost on her, nor was the Vulcan's accepting nod. Chakotay looked back at her. "I hope so."

Kes grinned. "That's all I want to do."

"Then… I guess you're on the right ship, after all."

Kes pressed her palms together and smiled. Chakotay returned the expression somehow more genuinely, and she left to follow Neelix down to the mess hall. Even though, in many ways, she'd traded larger tunnels for these much smaller. She'd traded one Caretaker for another. But maybe that was what life was: a series of tunnels to find the way through, a series of Caretakers to lend power and light.

She stepped into the turbolift, excited for even the next deck, the next meal, the next strange room she'd call hers. She'd see the sun and she'd find her way. And maybe one day, she'd be a Caretaker, too.