C/P story part 6
7 February 2004 20:21![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mandragoraYou're doomed, you're all doomed...
Chapter Six
Captain's Log Stardate:
Voyager is now back in the Delta Quadrant, having experienced a trip through time and space, ending up in the Alpha Quadrant, orbiting Earth but unfortunately approximately 400 years too early. While we were still in the Delta Quadrant, a horizontal rift appeared in the space-time continuum, through which flew what is apparently a 29th century Federation vessel, a time ship, captained by a man calling himself Captain Braxton. He tried to destroy Voyager claiming that we are somehow responsible for the destruction of Earth's solar system in the 29th century. Although I realised that this was a possibility, I was not prepared to sacrifice the ship based on what we were told by Captain Braxton, and defended against his attack. This seems to have caused a disruption in the rift, which sucked in both Captain Braxton's ship and Voyager. At the other end lay Earth in the year 1996.
On arrival we checked for any possible contamination of the time line caused by Voyager's presence and found what was a 29th century subspace signature located in Los Angeles on Earth. I, together with Lieutenant Paris, who has a certain level of expertise in the 20th century, Lieutenant Rollins and Lieutenant Hamilton beamed down to investigate. The subspace signature turned out to originate from Captain Braxton, who was thrown back in time approximately twenty years earlier than Voyager. His ship crash-landed onto Earth, and was seen by a 20th century human called Henry Starling, who appropriated the technology on Braxton's ship and used it to make himself one of the richest and most powerful humans of his time.
We ascertained that it was actually Starling's use of 29th century technology that would set in motion the train of events which would lead to the destruction of the Earth solar system some 800 years later. With the assistance of one of Starling's employees, a 20th century woman called Rain Robinson, we were able to thwart Starling, by destroying Captain Braxton's timeship with a torpedo, when Starling attempted to take the timeship out into space.
This destruction had the effect of restoring the original timeline, and we were confronted with a restored Captain Braxton, who had wanted to know just what we were doing in this time. He ordered us to follow him through a time rift created by his ship, back to the 24th century - and the Delta Quadrant.
I explained that we've been trying to get home for two years and asked to remain in the Alpha Quadrant, but was told that this was contrary to the temporal prime directive. In the circumstances, Voyager had little choice but to comply.
I would like to commend the conduct of Lieutenants Paris, Hamilton, Rollins and Kim. Lieutenant Paris succeeded, with Lieutenant Rollin's assistance in befriending Rain Robinson and persuading her to help us, without compromising Voyager's position. Lieutenant Hamilton was of great assistance in helping me to track down Henry Starling. Lieutenant Kim took command of the ship and performed more than creditably in strange circumstances.
Because of the historical interest of this mission, I have ordered that a detailed record is compiled containing the experiences and views of everyone involved.
One interesting and, I believe, beneficial result of our experiences is that the EMH is now equipped with a 29th century mobile emitter, which means he is now fully mobile and no longer confined to sickbay or the holodeck. It is possible that we are somehow corrupting the timeline, in making use of 29th century technology, but, in view of our unique circumstances, I cannot regret it.
Addendum: Mr Paris objected to my beaming down to Earth at the same time as himself, in defiance of Starfleet protocol. I took due note of his views, but, in the light of the unusual circumstances, overrode his objection.
Chakotay paused thoughtfully, pondering whether to say more about the altercation he and Tom had had, but decided to make to further note in the official log. He merely told the computer, "End entry," and then sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the wall of his Ready Room, remembering that Tom, already dressed in 20th century attire, had come to his quarters while he was changing into suitable clothing in order to blend in with the time period. Chakotay had been gazing appreciatively at the frankly alluring sight of Tom Paris' backside clad in the 20th century garments known as blue jeans, absently admiring the way the material flexed over the twin globes of his buttocks, as Tom paced up and down the length of Chakotay's quarters.
"What is it?" Chakotay asked as he pulled the item which Tom had informed him was called a T-shirt over his head. Paris paused in his pacing, then turned to face Chakotay, folding his arms in a stance Chakotay recognised all too well. "Something on your mind?"
"Yes," Tom said flatly. "You."
Chakotay's brow furrowed. "Me?"
"And your little plan for you personally to beam on down to Earth."
Chakotay groaned. "Not this again. Look, I--"
"I'd like to know just why it's so damn important for you to go down. What's the matter? Don't you trust me to handle it?"
Chakotay's eyes widened. "Tom! No, it's just--"
"Because I have to tell you, that's what it looks like from where I'm standing."
Chakotay moved close to the younger man and seized his shoulders in a firm grip. "Tom." He gave the recalcitrant body opposite his a little shake as he spoke. "I do trust you. I do. It's just that I feel I should go."
"Why?" Tom's tone, although ostensibly neutral, skirted the edge of anger.
"Why. Why," Chakotay pondered aloud, gazing into the now oh so familiar face, set into lines of intransigence, as he released Tom's shoulders. "I just think that I should. I'm sorry, that's the only answer I can give you."
Tom sighed heavily, his breath, smelling of fresh mint, wafting across Chakotay's face. "I see. So, because you feel you should go, you're just going to ignore Starfleet protocols, is that it."
Chakotay frowned, why did Tom have to pick now to be difficult, when he was looking forward to revisiting the planet of humanity's birth in the days of his ancestors. "Look," he said with as much patience as he could summon up, "I'm sure you know that sometimes command is a matter of...of following your instincts. That's what this is."
Paris started to laugh, as Chakotay stared at him, wondering what was so funny. "That's a great justification. Your command instinct! Yeah, must remember to use that one some time."
Chakotay drew in a breath. Creator send him strength. "It comes down to I have to do what I think is best, for all of us."
Tom nodded knowingly. "Uh huh. That says it all."
Chakotay's honest bewilderment shone from his face, as it scrunched up in puzzlement. "I don't follow you."
"*You* have to do *your* best." At Chakotay's instinctive headshake, indicating he still wasn't following the conversation, Tom sighed. "The point being that it's always you. Yeah, you make the decisions, of course you do, you're the Captain after all. But, you never listen to anyone other than yourself."
Stung, Chakotay glared at him. "That's not true."
"It isn't? Well, let's see, when have you ever listened to a word I've got to say and I'm your godammed first officer!"
"I listen to you!"
"Yeah. Right. Name an instance."
Chakotay thought for a moment, then said, triumphantly, "The cross training."
Tom snorted. "That wasn't an instance where we disagreed and you took my advice and you know it. You've just proved my point. You can't think of a single example. Shit, Chakotay! You always think that you're right, you know that!"
Chakotay's temper began to get the better of him. "You're treading on thin ice here Tom."
But the younger man was unrepentant. "Truth hurts, huh, Chakotay. God! It must've near killed you having to watch Captain Janeway make decisions you didn't agree with, you knowing that you were right and she was wrong!"
Chakotay recoiled as if he'd been struck by a poisonous snake. He couldn't believe that Tom had mentioned Kathryn, the one person who was, by tacit consent, never mentioned between them, in this context. "I always respected her command decisions," he finally managed to say, proud of his even tone.
"Yeah," Tom's voice was gentle. "I know you did. Look, I'm sorry. I never meant to suggest that you... that she...oh hell!" He paused and took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is that this is about you and me, not you and Captain Janeway." His jaw tightened, as he added, "Obviously I don't know what was the case with Captain Janeway, but you've never listened to a word I say, that I do know."
Chakotay held the younger man's gaze a moment longer, turning away abruptly. He walked to the couch and picked up the cream coloured jacket that completed his 20th century attire. "I do listen to what you have to say, Tom. Just because I don't necessarily agree with you, doesn't mean I don't respect your opinion."
"Bullshit!"
Chakotay shook his head, holding on fast to his temper, not least because Tom seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. Chakotay knew that Tom was wrong, but there was obviously a problem, even if only one of perception. "Tom..." he sighed. "Look, it all comes down to the fact that I'm the captain, the final decision rests with me. You know that."
"Of course I do. But I also know that a good captain at least acknowledges that there might be other viewpoints, that he's not infallible."
The older man stared at the younger, more shaken by his words than he wanted to let on. "Are you saying that I'm not a good captain?" His voice was challenging, but there was an underlying note of hurt that he was unable to suppress.
Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that you don't pay enough attention to the advice of your officers and that you put yourself in the front line too much. And that's hardly a new fault. Captain Janeway was equally guilty of that, if I'm not mistaken."
Chakotay stared at the ground, absently examining the toe of the [CHECK SHOES OUT] 20th century shoes he was wearing. It was true that he'd been frustrated on more than one occasion by Kathryn's stubborn refusal to heed his advice, her insistence on putting herself into potential danger. And now here was Tom saying the same thing about him. He sighed, feeling his temples throb insistently. "You...may have a point," he said finally, reluctantly. "We'll discuss it later, after we get back."
"Oh great!" Paris said, disgust in every syllable. "I've got a point, but you're still going."
"Yes. Because I stand by what I said earlier. My instincts tell me--"
"Not to mention your desire to take a look, huh, Chakotay," Tom challenged. "I'm right aren't I." Chakotay shrugged ruefully, acknowledging the hit. Paris sighed. "Why you couldn't just admit it..." he muttered.
"You'd have withdrawn your objection?"
Tom shook his head, hair sparking in the light from the ceiling. "Nope."
"Well then." Chakotay's gaze narrowed and sharpened, as if he was trying to bore a hole into Tom's skull to discover all his secrets. "What's got you so riled up anyway?"
Tom's head turned sharply to one side, then he folded his arms as his gaze returned to Chakotay. His voice was taut, edged with frustration. "I'm trying to do my job. Which includes keeping you safe. But you don't make it easy if you insist in getting involved in everything that comes up."
Chakotay pursed his lips, considering what Tom had just said. "I see." Then in an attempt to lighten the mood, "I guess this means that you really don't want to be captain then?"
To his surprise, instead of taking the comment in the spirit in which it was offered and making a joke back, Tom's gaze wavered slightly, as his eyes flicked to the floor and back again. "That's right."
Chakotay felt his body tauten. "So," he said carefully, "There's no other reason then?"
"What other reason could there be?"
The captain shrugged, uncertain. When he'd undertaken the Nakami ritual, he'd wondered then whether Tom was at all concerned about him personally. And his manner now... "None I suppose." Then, with a hasty change of subject, "Come on, we've got to get going."
"You're still going then?"
With exasperation, "For the last time - yes!"
"In that case, I want a formal note in the log, that I object."
Chakotay stared at Tom in disbelief. "You're going to stand on protocol! *You*!" He muttered, "I don't believe this!"
"If this is the only way to get it through your head, then, yes, I'm going to stand on protocol." Paris grinned mirthlessly. "Maybe if I object enough, one of 'em will stick."
"Oh very well," Chakotay snapped. "I'll make a note. When we get back."
In sepulchral tones, Tom said, "If we get back."
Chakotay glared at him. "Very funny."
"I thought so," Tom said equably.
Chakotay just shook his head, having determined to try to put this issue to one side, to swallow his resentment, both at Tom's comments and his hurtful comment about Kathryn. It would have to be dealt with after they had sorted out the current mess. If they sorted out the current mess. He flung up his arms in resignation. "Let's go." To his hidden relief, Tom said nothing further as he followed him out the room.
~~~~~~
Captain's Personal Log: Stardate:
It was a strange feeling, being back in the Alpha Quadrant, albeit 400 years too early. Braxton's decision at the end was disappointing. But, in some ways, I wasn't as upset as I thought I would be, at being 'so near and yet so far'.
I've changed out here in the Delta Quadrant, I admitted as much when Kathryn and I were together on New Earth, when I told her, obliquely maybe, but she understood the message, I think, that I loved her. What will happen when...if... we get back home? Will I become the 'Angry Warrior' I told Kathryn I wasn't any longer? Most of that transformation was due to her and I think that since her death, I've changed yet again. Am I more like I used to be? Maybe. I'm not as calm, I find, but how much of that is due to anger at her death, at the sheer futility of it, or the stresses of taking command, I don't know. And then there's whatever I have with Tom. He irritates the hell out of me at times, but I've come to realise that I always seem to feel passion of some sort when I'm with him, whether it's due to anger, or sex.
And now I find myself thinking about home. I'd subsumed these thoughts, I think, into my concentration on the task of actually getting there. But I find myself wondering what will happen when we get back. Will I rejoin the Maquis, let the old anger override the joy I have experienced in being back in Starfleet, albeit on a starship in the Delta Quadrant. It was such a hard decision for me to leave, after all those years I'd spent in Starfleet and, in some ways, when I was in the Maquis, I never stopped missing it. But now, I'm not certain whether I'd want to stay in Starfleet, rejoin the Maquis, or do something completely different. And of course, it's entirely possible that Starfleet won't want me. In fact, it's probably more than likely that they won't, particularly without Kathryn there to intercede on behalf of those of us who were Maquis.
And there's also the possibility that I'll find that I'm a fugitive, together with the rest of us who were in the Maquis. But, assuming that doesn't happen, it will be a relief to be able to go where I want, be able to associate with whom I please. There are some people on Voyager I would have preferred not to be stuck on a small ship with and wouldn't shed any tears at never seeing them again. But then, isn't that always the case? There are others I really would miss, though, like B'Elanna, Harry, Ayala, Kes, Jon Rollins, even Neelix.
And what about Tom? How would I feel if I never saw him again? I think... I'm pretty sure that I'd miss him. These past couple of weeks, since Nakami, have been a lot of fun. We've had dinner together several times, actually talked quite a bit; played a few games of hoverball, at which I'm pleased to note that the score's even. I have to admit that when he puts his mind to it, Tom is one hell of a companion, smart, funny, amusing, even without the sex. But, I still don't think that whatever it is we have is going to last, I just don't think that we've really got enough in common, or get on well enough for that. We still seem to react badly to each other at times, and although I've finally come to realise that I'm not totally blameless in this, the fact remains that if our personalities are too dissimilar to mesh well, it doesn't bode well for any long-term future. So, I'm sticking firmly to my resolve to enjoy it while it lasts, but in the meantime keep the level of involvement light and unassuming. I'm fairly certain that Tom feels the same way.
Although, where he got the idea I don't listen to him, I don't know. I've taken his advice on occasion, for example...
Chakotay paused, staring into space searching for an example. To his chagrin, he realised that he was unable to think of one. Faced once more with the unpalatable thought that maybe there was something in what Tom had said, he decided to pause the entry and pick it up later. It was almost time to meet the crew in the messhall anyway, for a gathering to commiserate, or celebrate, depending one one's point of view, Voyager's return to the Delta Quadrant. Come to think of it, that had been Tom's idea. Who said he didn't listen to his first officer?
~~~~~
"I tell you, that was the worst piece of parking I saw the whole time I was there."
Chakotay took a sip of his synthchampagne, having just managed to escape from the Doctor, who was obviously revelling in his new mobility and boring everyone within earshot. He was listening with amusement as Rollins ragged Paris over his driving ability
"Hey!" Tom said with mock indignation. "At least I know how to park!"
"Not very well from what I've seen!"
"Oh yeah? And you could do better?"
"Maybe not. I probably couldn't do worse though."
Tom drew himself up in offended dignity as those within earshot laughed.
"It's just as well you were better at bonding with Rain than driving," Rollins continued in a teasing tone to Tom.
Chakotay's ears pricked up, he'd been aware from what both Paris and Rollins had intimated that the 20th century woman had got on exceptionally well with Tom. He was surprised to feel a faint pang of jealousy. Which was ridiculous. What had he to be jealous about? And anyway, the woman was over 300 years dead.
"You're just jealous," Tom retorted to Rollins. "That this beautiful, intelligent woman liked me, rather than you."
Jon snorted. "Intelligent. Now that I doubt. What was she going on about, something called, what was it, Bride of the Corpse!"
"Very intelligent," Tom confirmed. "Witness her taste in men." He pretended to preen a little, as Rollins groaned.
"Hmm, in that case, I'm with Jon!" Harry said, to a few giggles from the listening audience.
"Gee, thanks, Harry. With friends like you..."
"Uh huh," Kim said, deftly pinching the new glass of synthchampagne Tom was raising to his lips out of his hand to an indignant "Hey!"
Tom grabbed it back, saying, "So, Harry, how did you like being in command?"
"I liked it just fine, had enough practice, thanks to all those extra shifts you made me stand," Kim grumbled.
Tom laughed. "See, I told you you'd thank me some day."
"Oh yes. You know I was thinking just that, how much I ought to be thanking you when I was crawling through the jeffries tubes doing all those extra engineering duties, and again when I was..."
Chakotay listened to the banter of his crew with an indulgent smile. He was happy, he realised suddenly, actually happy not to be back in the Alpha Quadrant, dealing with the attendant problems that would ensue when they did get back. Instead, he was surrounded by people who he was coming to think of as family, maybe to replace the one he'd lost. Of course, his life wasn't perfect by any means, but then, whose was? He might still be grieving for those he had lost, Kathryn in particular, and being back on Earth, even four hundred years too early had stirred up memories of those he had also lost in the Alpha Quadrant, but, here and now, he was experiencing something that had been lost to him for all too long - happiness. Somewhere along the line, during that wild ride on 20th century Earth, he had lost his hold on his anger over the confrontation he and Tom had had, even the fact that Tom had insisted on making an official note of his objection didn't really bother him anymore. It was just like Tom, to be so intransigent. And, hopefully, later on tonight he'd be enjoying the company of said intransigent, aggravating, infuriating, *beautiful* man.
*****
Tom stepped into the holodeck, noting that Neelix' resort programme, the one he'd recently helped make a few improvements to, was running. In the few days since Neelix had initiated it, it seemed to be proving quite popular with the crew, he thought absently. He looked around, squinting slightly in the bright holographic sunshine, where was the man he'd come to see? He wandered between the cool marble patterned pillars, dodging various holographic characters, until he spotted a flash of bright silk. Ah ha, there he was. He walked over to where Neelix sat, half hidden by a large fernlike plant.
"Hey Neelix," he said lightly as he walked up to him. "I wanted to talk to you about--" He stopped as the little Talaxian raised his face from where he'd been staring into a drink. Neelix was attempting to smile, but it was a woeful failure and his eyes were reddened, bloodshot veins prominent on their surface. "What's wrong?" Tom asked with concern. He didn't like to see his ebullient friend upset.
"Oh nothing."
"C'mon Neelix," Tom said in a gentle tone. "It's obvious something's wrong. Please. Let me help."
Neelix sighed heavily. "It's Kes."
"What about her," Tom asked in alarm. "She's okay isn't she?" His concern was well founded. Kes' body had recently been taken over by an Ilarian warlord called Tieran. In no small part due to Kes' iron will, she had defeated, and expelled the intruder, but had been left a little shaken by the experience, although she seemed to be unhurt.
"Yes, yes. She's fine. It's me who's not."
Tom looked at Neelix in puzzlement. "I don't understand."
"You know that Kes broke up with me?"
"Well, yes, but that was when she was controlled by Tieran so--" Tom stopped short, as he realised what Neelix was trying to say. "On, Neelix, no." There was a universe of compassion in his voice. "Are you saying that she wants to make it permanent?"
Neelix nodded dolefully. "Yes," he sighed. "She says that she wants space, that she needs to be on her own, at least for now."
"Maybe this is only a temporary thing and when she gets over the assimilation by Tieran, she'll--"
"No," Neelix interrupted. "I know Kes, probably better than anyone. I've lost her. I have to accept that." He essayed a smile; again it was a dismal failure. "I suppose I should have expected this. I don't know what she saw in me anyway."
"Don't say that! Come on Neelix, you've got a lot to offer, you're fun and loyal and kind and compassionate."
"Not to mention a great cook," Neelix said with a weak, but genuine smile.
"I wouldn't go that far!"
Neelix smiled a bit more broadly this time. "Thanks Tom. You're a good friend."
"So're you," Tom returned softly. "And please, if there's anything I can do, let me know, okay."
"Okay. And thanks."
The two men sat in companionable silence for a while, before Tom sighed and stood up to go.
"What did you want to see me about anyway?" Neelix asked
Tom shook his head. Nothing important, just about a party, but it can wait until you're feeling a bit more like yourself."
"Are you sure?" the Talaxian asked anxiously.
"I'm sure." With that, Tom turned to go, only to be stopped by Neelix' next comment.
"You know, Tom, if you wanted to start something with Kes, I wouldn't mind. Really I wouldn't. You'd probably be better suited to her anyway."
"Neelix, no!" Tom protested. "I wouldn't do that to you. And besides--" He stopped short, reconsidering what he was going to say.
"Besides what?"
He shook his head. "Nothing." Tom thought better of his first impulse to tell Neelix that he was seeing, sort of, Chakotay. He didn't doubt that the Talaxian would promise in all good faith to keep the relationship a secret, but he doubted his actual ability to do so. Knowing Neelix, he'd blurt it out at the most inopportune moment, then be horrified by what he'd done. "But, please believe me, Neelix. I've got no intention of pursuing Kes. Really."
"Oh, it's okay, Tom. If you change your mind, I mean."
"I won't. But thank you anyway." With a parting smile for Neelix, Tom left him on the holodeck. He felt very depressed; sad for Neelix, who loved Kes so much, also for Kes, who he was sure was in pain for hurting Neelix. Even if she had decided that her future didn't lie with him, he had no doubt of her affection for the Talaxian. But also, he couldn't help thinking that if such a devoted couple as Kes and Neelix could break up, then there was absolutely no chance for Chakotay and himself. Then he castigated himself for being so stupid as to think the words Tom Paris, Chakotay and future together in the same sentence. The whole idea was ridiculous. Because, even though they were getting on better than they had, really the essential basis of their relationship hadn't changed. It was just sex, after all.
******
End Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Captain's Log Stardate:
Voyager is now back in the Delta Quadrant, having experienced a trip through time and space, ending up in the Alpha Quadrant, orbiting Earth but unfortunately approximately 400 years too early. While we were still in the Delta Quadrant, a horizontal rift appeared in the space-time continuum, through which flew what is apparently a 29th century Federation vessel, a time ship, captained by a man calling himself Captain Braxton. He tried to destroy Voyager claiming that we are somehow responsible for the destruction of Earth's solar system in the 29th century. Although I realised that this was a possibility, I was not prepared to sacrifice the ship based on what we were told by Captain Braxton, and defended against his attack. This seems to have caused a disruption in the rift, which sucked in both Captain Braxton's ship and Voyager. At the other end lay Earth in the year 1996.
On arrival we checked for any possible contamination of the time line caused by Voyager's presence and found what was a 29th century subspace signature located in Los Angeles on Earth. I, together with Lieutenant Paris, who has a certain level of expertise in the 20th century, Lieutenant Rollins and Lieutenant Hamilton beamed down to investigate. The subspace signature turned out to originate from Captain Braxton, who was thrown back in time approximately twenty years earlier than Voyager. His ship crash-landed onto Earth, and was seen by a 20th century human called Henry Starling, who appropriated the technology on Braxton's ship and used it to make himself one of the richest and most powerful humans of his time.
We ascertained that it was actually Starling's use of 29th century technology that would set in motion the train of events which would lead to the destruction of the Earth solar system some 800 years later. With the assistance of one of Starling's employees, a 20th century woman called Rain Robinson, we were able to thwart Starling, by destroying Captain Braxton's timeship with a torpedo, when Starling attempted to take the timeship out into space.
This destruction had the effect of restoring the original timeline, and we were confronted with a restored Captain Braxton, who had wanted to know just what we were doing in this time. He ordered us to follow him through a time rift created by his ship, back to the 24th century - and the Delta Quadrant.
I explained that we've been trying to get home for two years and asked to remain in the Alpha Quadrant, but was told that this was contrary to the temporal prime directive. In the circumstances, Voyager had little choice but to comply.
I would like to commend the conduct of Lieutenants Paris, Hamilton, Rollins and Kim. Lieutenant Paris succeeded, with Lieutenant Rollin's assistance in befriending Rain Robinson and persuading her to help us, without compromising Voyager's position. Lieutenant Hamilton was of great assistance in helping me to track down Henry Starling. Lieutenant Kim took command of the ship and performed more than creditably in strange circumstances.
Because of the historical interest of this mission, I have ordered that a detailed record is compiled containing the experiences and views of everyone involved.
One interesting and, I believe, beneficial result of our experiences is that the EMH is now equipped with a 29th century mobile emitter, which means he is now fully mobile and no longer confined to sickbay or the holodeck. It is possible that we are somehow corrupting the timeline, in making use of 29th century technology, but, in view of our unique circumstances, I cannot regret it.
Addendum: Mr Paris objected to my beaming down to Earth at the same time as himself, in defiance of Starfleet protocol. I took due note of his views, but, in the light of the unusual circumstances, overrode his objection.
Chakotay paused thoughtfully, pondering whether to say more about the altercation he and Tom had had, but decided to make to further note in the official log. He merely told the computer, "End entry," and then sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the wall of his Ready Room, remembering that Tom, already dressed in 20th century attire, had come to his quarters while he was changing into suitable clothing in order to blend in with the time period. Chakotay had been gazing appreciatively at the frankly alluring sight of Tom Paris' backside clad in the 20th century garments known as blue jeans, absently admiring the way the material flexed over the twin globes of his buttocks, as Tom paced up and down the length of Chakotay's quarters.
"What is it?" Chakotay asked as he pulled the item which Tom had informed him was called a T-shirt over his head. Paris paused in his pacing, then turned to face Chakotay, folding his arms in a stance Chakotay recognised all too well. "Something on your mind?"
"Yes," Tom said flatly. "You."
Chakotay's brow furrowed. "Me?"
"And your little plan for you personally to beam on down to Earth."
Chakotay groaned. "Not this again. Look, I--"
"I'd like to know just why it's so damn important for you to go down. What's the matter? Don't you trust me to handle it?"
Chakotay's eyes widened. "Tom! No, it's just--"
"Because I have to tell you, that's what it looks like from where I'm standing."
Chakotay moved close to the younger man and seized his shoulders in a firm grip. "Tom." He gave the recalcitrant body opposite his a little shake as he spoke. "I do trust you. I do. It's just that I feel I should go."
"Why?" Tom's tone, although ostensibly neutral, skirted the edge of anger.
"Why. Why," Chakotay pondered aloud, gazing into the now oh so familiar face, set into lines of intransigence, as he released Tom's shoulders. "I just think that I should. I'm sorry, that's the only answer I can give you."
Tom sighed heavily, his breath, smelling of fresh mint, wafting across Chakotay's face. "I see. So, because you feel you should go, you're just going to ignore Starfleet protocols, is that it."
Chakotay frowned, why did Tom have to pick now to be difficult, when he was looking forward to revisiting the planet of humanity's birth in the days of his ancestors. "Look," he said with as much patience as he could summon up, "I'm sure you know that sometimes command is a matter of...of following your instincts. That's what this is."
Paris started to laugh, as Chakotay stared at him, wondering what was so funny. "That's a great justification. Your command instinct! Yeah, must remember to use that one some time."
Chakotay drew in a breath. Creator send him strength. "It comes down to I have to do what I think is best, for all of us."
Tom nodded knowingly. "Uh huh. That says it all."
Chakotay's honest bewilderment shone from his face, as it scrunched up in puzzlement. "I don't follow you."
"*You* have to do *your* best." At Chakotay's instinctive headshake, indicating he still wasn't following the conversation, Tom sighed. "The point being that it's always you. Yeah, you make the decisions, of course you do, you're the Captain after all. But, you never listen to anyone other than yourself."
Stung, Chakotay glared at him. "That's not true."
"It isn't? Well, let's see, when have you ever listened to a word I've got to say and I'm your godammed first officer!"
"I listen to you!"
"Yeah. Right. Name an instance."
Chakotay thought for a moment, then said, triumphantly, "The cross training."
Tom snorted. "That wasn't an instance where we disagreed and you took my advice and you know it. You've just proved my point. You can't think of a single example. Shit, Chakotay! You always think that you're right, you know that!"
Chakotay's temper began to get the better of him. "You're treading on thin ice here Tom."
But the younger man was unrepentant. "Truth hurts, huh, Chakotay. God! It must've near killed you having to watch Captain Janeway make decisions you didn't agree with, you knowing that you were right and she was wrong!"
Chakotay recoiled as if he'd been struck by a poisonous snake. He couldn't believe that Tom had mentioned Kathryn, the one person who was, by tacit consent, never mentioned between them, in this context. "I always respected her command decisions," he finally managed to say, proud of his even tone.
"Yeah," Tom's voice was gentle. "I know you did. Look, I'm sorry. I never meant to suggest that you... that she...oh hell!" He paused and took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is that this is about you and me, not you and Captain Janeway." His jaw tightened, as he added, "Obviously I don't know what was the case with Captain Janeway, but you've never listened to a word I say, that I do know."
Chakotay held the younger man's gaze a moment longer, turning away abruptly. He walked to the couch and picked up the cream coloured jacket that completed his 20th century attire. "I do listen to what you have to say, Tom. Just because I don't necessarily agree with you, doesn't mean I don't respect your opinion."
"Bullshit!"
Chakotay shook his head, holding on fast to his temper, not least because Tom seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. Chakotay knew that Tom was wrong, but there was obviously a problem, even if only one of perception. "Tom..." he sighed. "Look, it all comes down to the fact that I'm the captain, the final decision rests with me. You know that."
"Of course I do. But I also know that a good captain at least acknowledges that there might be other viewpoints, that he's not infallible."
The older man stared at the younger, more shaken by his words than he wanted to let on. "Are you saying that I'm not a good captain?" His voice was challenging, but there was an underlying note of hurt that he was unable to suppress.
Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that you don't pay enough attention to the advice of your officers and that you put yourself in the front line too much. And that's hardly a new fault. Captain Janeway was equally guilty of that, if I'm not mistaken."
Chakotay stared at the ground, absently examining the toe of the [CHECK SHOES OUT] 20th century shoes he was wearing. It was true that he'd been frustrated on more than one occasion by Kathryn's stubborn refusal to heed his advice, her insistence on putting herself into potential danger. And now here was Tom saying the same thing about him. He sighed, feeling his temples throb insistently. "You...may have a point," he said finally, reluctantly. "We'll discuss it later, after we get back."
"Oh great!" Paris said, disgust in every syllable. "I've got a point, but you're still going."
"Yes. Because I stand by what I said earlier. My instincts tell me--"
"Not to mention your desire to take a look, huh, Chakotay," Tom challenged. "I'm right aren't I." Chakotay shrugged ruefully, acknowledging the hit. Paris sighed. "Why you couldn't just admit it..." he muttered.
"You'd have withdrawn your objection?"
Tom shook his head, hair sparking in the light from the ceiling. "Nope."
"Well then." Chakotay's gaze narrowed and sharpened, as if he was trying to bore a hole into Tom's skull to discover all his secrets. "What's got you so riled up anyway?"
Tom's head turned sharply to one side, then he folded his arms as his gaze returned to Chakotay. His voice was taut, edged with frustration. "I'm trying to do my job. Which includes keeping you safe. But you don't make it easy if you insist in getting involved in everything that comes up."
Chakotay pursed his lips, considering what Tom had just said. "I see." Then in an attempt to lighten the mood, "I guess this means that you really don't want to be captain then?"
To his surprise, instead of taking the comment in the spirit in which it was offered and making a joke back, Tom's gaze wavered slightly, as his eyes flicked to the floor and back again. "That's right."
Chakotay felt his body tauten. "So," he said carefully, "There's no other reason then?"
"What other reason could there be?"
The captain shrugged, uncertain. When he'd undertaken the Nakami ritual, he'd wondered then whether Tom was at all concerned about him personally. And his manner now... "None I suppose." Then, with a hasty change of subject, "Come on, we've got to get going."
"You're still going then?"
With exasperation, "For the last time - yes!"
"In that case, I want a formal note in the log, that I object."
Chakotay stared at Tom in disbelief. "You're going to stand on protocol! *You*!" He muttered, "I don't believe this!"
"If this is the only way to get it through your head, then, yes, I'm going to stand on protocol." Paris grinned mirthlessly. "Maybe if I object enough, one of 'em will stick."
"Oh very well," Chakotay snapped. "I'll make a note. When we get back."
In sepulchral tones, Tom said, "If we get back."
Chakotay glared at him. "Very funny."
"I thought so," Tom said equably.
Chakotay just shook his head, having determined to try to put this issue to one side, to swallow his resentment, both at Tom's comments and his hurtful comment about Kathryn. It would have to be dealt with after they had sorted out the current mess. If they sorted out the current mess. He flung up his arms in resignation. "Let's go." To his hidden relief, Tom said nothing further as he followed him out the room.
~~~~~~
Captain's Personal Log: Stardate:
It was a strange feeling, being back in the Alpha Quadrant, albeit 400 years too early. Braxton's decision at the end was disappointing. But, in some ways, I wasn't as upset as I thought I would be, at being 'so near and yet so far'.
I've changed out here in the Delta Quadrant, I admitted as much when Kathryn and I were together on New Earth, when I told her, obliquely maybe, but she understood the message, I think, that I loved her. What will happen when...if... we get back home? Will I become the 'Angry Warrior' I told Kathryn I wasn't any longer? Most of that transformation was due to her and I think that since her death, I've changed yet again. Am I more like I used to be? Maybe. I'm not as calm, I find, but how much of that is due to anger at her death, at the sheer futility of it, or the stresses of taking command, I don't know. And then there's whatever I have with Tom. He irritates the hell out of me at times, but I've come to realise that I always seem to feel passion of some sort when I'm with him, whether it's due to anger, or sex.
And now I find myself thinking about home. I'd subsumed these thoughts, I think, into my concentration on the task of actually getting there. But I find myself wondering what will happen when we get back. Will I rejoin the Maquis, let the old anger override the joy I have experienced in being back in Starfleet, albeit on a starship in the Delta Quadrant. It was such a hard decision for me to leave, after all those years I'd spent in Starfleet and, in some ways, when I was in the Maquis, I never stopped missing it. But now, I'm not certain whether I'd want to stay in Starfleet, rejoin the Maquis, or do something completely different. And of course, it's entirely possible that Starfleet won't want me. In fact, it's probably more than likely that they won't, particularly without Kathryn there to intercede on behalf of those of us who were Maquis.
And there's also the possibility that I'll find that I'm a fugitive, together with the rest of us who were in the Maquis. But, assuming that doesn't happen, it will be a relief to be able to go where I want, be able to associate with whom I please. There are some people on Voyager I would have preferred not to be stuck on a small ship with and wouldn't shed any tears at never seeing them again. But then, isn't that always the case? There are others I really would miss, though, like B'Elanna, Harry, Ayala, Kes, Jon Rollins, even Neelix.
And what about Tom? How would I feel if I never saw him again? I think... I'm pretty sure that I'd miss him. These past couple of weeks, since Nakami, have been a lot of fun. We've had dinner together several times, actually talked quite a bit; played a few games of hoverball, at which I'm pleased to note that the score's even. I have to admit that when he puts his mind to it, Tom is one hell of a companion, smart, funny, amusing, even without the sex. But, I still don't think that whatever it is we have is going to last, I just don't think that we've really got enough in common, or get on well enough for that. We still seem to react badly to each other at times, and although I've finally come to realise that I'm not totally blameless in this, the fact remains that if our personalities are too dissimilar to mesh well, it doesn't bode well for any long-term future. So, I'm sticking firmly to my resolve to enjoy it while it lasts, but in the meantime keep the level of involvement light and unassuming. I'm fairly certain that Tom feels the same way.
Although, where he got the idea I don't listen to him, I don't know. I've taken his advice on occasion, for example...
Chakotay paused, staring into space searching for an example. To his chagrin, he realised that he was unable to think of one. Faced once more with the unpalatable thought that maybe there was something in what Tom had said, he decided to pause the entry and pick it up later. It was almost time to meet the crew in the messhall anyway, for a gathering to commiserate, or celebrate, depending one one's point of view, Voyager's return to the Delta Quadrant. Come to think of it, that had been Tom's idea. Who said he didn't listen to his first officer?
~~~~~
"I tell you, that was the worst piece of parking I saw the whole time I was there."
Chakotay took a sip of his synthchampagne, having just managed to escape from the Doctor, who was obviously revelling in his new mobility and boring everyone within earshot. He was listening with amusement as Rollins ragged Paris over his driving ability
"Hey!" Tom said with mock indignation. "At least I know how to park!"
"Not very well from what I've seen!"
"Oh yeah? And you could do better?"
"Maybe not. I probably couldn't do worse though."
Tom drew himself up in offended dignity as those within earshot laughed.
"It's just as well you were better at bonding with Rain than driving," Rollins continued in a teasing tone to Tom.
Chakotay's ears pricked up, he'd been aware from what both Paris and Rollins had intimated that the 20th century woman had got on exceptionally well with Tom. He was surprised to feel a faint pang of jealousy. Which was ridiculous. What had he to be jealous about? And anyway, the woman was over 300 years dead.
"You're just jealous," Tom retorted to Rollins. "That this beautiful, intelligent woman liked me, rather than you."
Jon snorted. "Intelligent. Now that I doubt. What was she going on about, something called, what was it, Bride of the Corpse!"
"Very intelligent," Tom confirmed. "Witness her taste in men." He pretended to preen a little, as Rollins groaned.
"Hmm, in that case, I'm with Jon!" Harry said, to a few giggles from the listening audience.
"Gee, thanks, Harry. With friends like you..."
"Uh huh," Kim said, deftly pinching the new glass of synthchampagne Tom was raising to his lips out of his hand to an indignant "Hey!"
Tom grabbed it back, saying, "So, Harry, how did you like being in command?"
"I liked it just fine, had enough practice, thanks to all those extra shifts you made me stand," Kim grumbled.
Tom laughed. "See, I told you you'd thank me some day."
"Oh yes. You know I was thinking just that, how much I ought to be thanking you when I was crawling through the jeffries tubes doing all those extra engineering duties, and again when I was..."
Chakotay listened to the banter of his crew with an indulgent smile. He was happy, he realised suddenly, actually happy not to be back in the Alpha Quadrant, dealing with the attendant problems that would ensue when they did get back. Instead, he was surrounded by people who he was coming to think of as family, maybe to replace the one he'd lost. Of course, his life wasn't perfect by any means, but then, whose was? He might still be grieving for those he had lost, Kathryn in particular, and being back on Earth, even four hundred years too early had stirred up memories of those he had also lost in the Alpha Quadrant, but, here and now, he was experiencing something that had been lost to him for all too long - happiness. Somewhere along the line, during that wild ride on 20th century Earth, he had lost his hold on his anger over the confrontation he and Tom had had, even the fact that Tom had insisted on making an official note of his objection didn't really bother him anymore. It was just like Tom, to be so intransigent. And, hopefully, later on tonight he'd be enjoying the company of said intransigent, aggravating, infuriating, *beautiful* man.
*****
Tom stepped into the holodeck, noting that Neelix' resort programme, the one he'd recently helped make a few improvements to, was running. In the few days since Neelix had initiated it, it seemed to be proving quite popular with the crew, he thought absently. He looked around, squinting slightly in the bright holographic sunshine, where was the man he'd come to see? He wandered between the cool marble patterned pillars, dodging various holographic characters, until he spotted a flash of bright silk. Ah ha, there he was. He walked over to where Neelix sat, half hidden by a large fernlike plant.
"Hey Neelix," he said lightly as he walked up to him. "I wanted to talk to you about--" He stopped as the little Talaxian raised his face from where he'd been staring into a drink. Neelix was attempting to smile, but it was a woeful failure and his eyes were reddened, bloodshot veins prominent on their surface. "What's wrong?" Tom asked with concern. He didn't like to see his ebullient friend upset.
"Oh nothing."
"C'mon Neelix," Tom said in a gentle tone. "It's obvious something's wrong. Please. Let me help."
Neelix sighed heavily. "It's Kes."
"What about her," Tom asked in alarm. "She's okay isn't she?" His concern was well founded. Kes' body had recently been taken over by an Ilarian warlord called Tieran. In no small part due to Kes' iron will, she had defeated, and expelled the intruder, but had been left a little shaken by the experience, although she seemed to be unhurt.
"Yes, yes. She's fine. It's me who's not."
Tom looked at Neelix in puzzlement. "I don't understand."
"You know that Kes broke up with me?"
"Well, yes, but that was when she was controlled by Tieran so--" Tom stopped short, as he realised what Neelix was trying to say. "On, Neelix, no." There was a universe of compassion in his voice. "Are you saying that she wants to make it permanent?"
Neelix nodded dolefully. "Yes," he sighed. "She says that she wants space, that she needs to be on her own, at least for now."
"Maybe this is only a temporary thing and when she gets over the assimilation by Tieran, she'll--"
"No," Neelix interrupted. "I know Kes, probably better than anyone. I've lost her. I have to accept that." He essayed a smile; again it was a dismal failure. "I suppose I should have expected this. I don't know what she saw in me anyway."
"Don't say that! Come on Neelix, you've got a lot to offer, you're fun and loyal and kind and compassionate."
"Not to mention a great cook," Neelix said with a weak, but genuine smile.
"I wouldn't go that far!"
Neelix smiled a bit more broadly this time. "Thanks Tom. You're a good friend."
"So're you," Tom returned softly. "And please, if there's anything I can do, let me know, okay."
"Okay. And thanks."
The two men sat in companionable silence for a while, before Tom sighed and stood up to go.
"What did you want to see me about anyway?" Neelix asked
Tom shook his head. Nothing important, just about a party, but it can wait until you're feeling a bit more like yourself."
"Are you sure?" the Talaxian asked anxiously.
"I'm sure." With that, Tom turned to go, only to be stopped by Neelix' next comment.
"You know, Tom, if you wanted to start something with Kes, I wouldn't mind. Really I wouldn't. You'd probably be better suited to her anyway."
"Neelix, no!" Tom protested. "I wouldn't do that to you. And besides--" He stopped short, reconsidering what he was going to say.
"Besides what?"
He shook his head. "Nothing." Tom thought better of his first impulse to tell Neelix that he was seeing, sort of, Chakotay. He didn't doubt that the Talaxian would promise in all good faith to keep the relationship a secret, but he doubted his actual ability to do so. Knowing Neelix, he'd blurt it out at the most inopportune moment, then be horrified by what he'd done. "But, please believe me, Neelix. I've got no intention of pursuing Kes. Really."
"Oh, it's okay, Tom. If you change your mind, I mean."
"I won't. But thank you anyway." With a parting smile for Neelix, Tom left him on the holodeck. He felt very depressed; sad for Neelix, who loved Kes so much, also for Kes, who he was sure was in pain for hurting Neelix. Even if she had decided that her future didn't lie with him, he had no doubt of her affection for the Talaxian. But also, he couldn't help thinking that if such a devoted couple as Kes and Neelix could break up, then there was absolutely no chance for Chakotay and himself. Then he castigated himself for being so stupid as to think the words Tom Paris, Chakotay and future together in the same sentence. The whole idea was ridiculous. Because, even though they were getting on better than they had, really the essential basis of their relationship hadn't changed. It was just sex, after all.
******
End Chapter Six
