“Chakotay, I couldn’t believe it when Will told me we were about to intercept Voyager. How are you?”
“Never better,” Chakotay replied honestly.
“I would have met you in the transporter room, but I had to get Natasha settled.”
“Natasha?”
“Our daughter,” Riker interjected as he continued studying the padd.
“A little over six months old now,” Troi added.
“Congratulations to you both,” Chakotay said sincerely.
“Thank you,” Troi said with unrepressed delight. “But what brings you here? I hope all is well on Voyager.”
“Admiral Janeway is requesting that we temporarily transfer Tuvok to Voyager,” Riker informed her.
Troi’s face fell into more serious lines, clearly aware that Janeway would never make such a request lightly.
“Why?”
“We have encountered a temporally displaced version of Kathryn Janeway in the Delta Quadrant,” Chakotay replied. “Her timeline starts shortly after she took command of Voyager but prior to its journey to the Delta Quadrant. She was captured and tortured by an alien species. I’ve spoken with her, and she is refusing to abandon those who took her in when it seemed all hope of rescue by Starfleet was lost.”
“Then she wouldn’t have known you,” Troi said. “Is it any wonder she might have greeted your offer of rescue with suspicion?”
“Actually, we have met before, but I can’t explain that situation without violating the Temporal Prime Directive.”
“Don’t,” Riker said, rising from his chair and offering the padd to Troi. “Some of my crew, including Tuvok, have worked closely with agents from the DTI, and I just can’t face that much paperwork right now.”
“You are convinced that she is another Kathryn Janeway,” Troi said.
“We are.”
Riker and Troi exchanged a meaningful, somber glance. Chakotay wondered if it had something to do with another duplicate Starfleet officer, Thomas Riker, a transporter-created twin of Will’s. Chakotay had actually met him a decade earlier while still a member of the Maquis. He was suddenly struck by the realization that as with the denzit, two identical people choosing very different paths became pale reflections of each other.
“Tuvok is the one officer we can think of who might stand a chance of reaching her,” Chakotay continued. “Their friendship predated their service on Voyager. We believe Denzit Janeway is more likely to trust him than any of us.”
“Even the admiral?” Riker asked.
“Especially the admiral,” Troi corrected him.
Riker turned away from his wife’s penetrating gaze. “I understand, and I agree that this situation is vital to Starfleet’s interests.” Tapping his combadge, he said, “Riker to Tuvok.”
“Tuvok. Go ahead, Captain,” a resonant and familiar voice replied.
“Please report to my ready room immediately.”
“Acknowledged, Captain.”
“Just promise me one thing,” Riker said.
“Yes?”
“Bring him back to us. He is an outstanding officer and one whose skills are essential to Titan’s mission.”
“I can’t promise you that Admiral Janeway will part with him willingly, but I doubt she will argue with your assessment. Nor would she wish to separate him from his wife, who I understand is aboard Titan as well.”
“She is,” Troi confirmed.
Tuvok entered moments later and did not display even faint surprise to see Chakotay standing between his captain and Counselor Troi. As Tuvok was Vulcan, this wasn’t unusual.
“Captain Chakotay,” Tuvok said, neither pleased nor displeased.
For his part, Chakotay was quite happy to be reunited with a man he considered a friend, one he had missed keenly over the last few years.
“It’s good to see you again, Tuvok. You look well.”
A faint nod to Chakotay was followed by an abrupt lifting of Tuvok’s chin to await his captain’s next words.
“Admiral Janeway has requested a temporary transfer to Voyager for you and I have approved her request,” Riker said.
Tuvok did not blink, but he did pause just long enough for Chakotay to intuit that this news was not being greeted with the repressed pleasure he might have suspected.
“I trust, Captain, that the admiral’s request is not personal?” Tuvok asked.
“No,” Riker replied, somewhat surprised. “There is a mission you are uniquely qualified to perform. Otherwise I’d be sending Captain Chakotay back to the Delta Quadrant disappointed.”
What an odd question, Chakotay thought, but held his peace. Both he and Tuvok knew Kathryn better than to imagine she would send him here on a personal matter.
“I’ll brief you fully once we get to Voyager,” Chakotay said. “We’ve got a bit of a journey ahead of us and time is of the essence.”
“In more ways than one,” Troi offered kindly.
“Very well, sir,” Tuvok said. “I will collect my things and bid farewell to my wife.”
“I’ll transport back with you when you’re ready,” Chakotay said.
“Dismissed,” Riker ordered.
When Tuvok had departed, a brief silence descended over the room, marring the convivial atmosphere. Finally Troi said, “You should be prepared for a period of adjustment, Captain. Tuvok has endured a series of personal struggles since the Borg Invasion. His service here has done a great deal to restore him, as has the constant presence of his wife. I don’t believe he is unwilling to assist you, but he is well aware that returning to Voyager will be a challenge for him.”
Chakotay nodded to Troi. In theory, Tuvok’s transfer had seemed like an excellent solution to the problem the fleet was facing on Sormana. Now Chakotay found himself wondering if it was really going to be that simple.
VOYAGER
“What’s taking them so long?” Commander Torres asked.
“Maybe Chakotay’s touring Titan before they return,” Paris suggested.
“You think that’s possible?” Lieutenant Kim asked. “I’d give anything to spend some time on Titan.”
“Are you bucking for a transfer?” Paris asked.
“Of course not,” Kim replied. “I just . . .”
“You want to meet Captain Riker, don’t you?” Torres teased.
“Don’t you? I saw him once, at a distance. He was taller than I’d imagined.”
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the transporter activating. Seconds later, Captain Chakotay and Voyager’s former chief of security appeared on the pad before them. As the two men stepped down, Paris, Torres, and Kim immediately surrounded Tuvok.
“Welcome back, stranger,” Paris said, extending a hand, which Tuvok accepted stiffly.
“It’s been too long, Tuvok,” Kim added immediately, matching Paris’s gesture and receiving the same response.
“Oh, come on,” Torres said, brushing past them and opening her arms to embrace Tuvok. He bent slightly to accept Torres’s firm hug, but his face betrayed nothing as he did so. As Torres pulled away, she said, “You look wonderful, Tuvok. I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Nor can I,” Tuvok said.
Paris and Torres exchanged a brief glance of consternation but Torres continued, “So much has happened since the last time we saw you. Join us for dinner tonight in our quarters. We’ll catch up.”
“Thank you for the offer, Commander,” Tuvok said, “but once Captain Chakotay has completed my pre-mission briefing, I will retire to my quarters to begin my preparations.”
“You’re not going to eat?” Paris asked.
“Unless your replicators are malfunctioning, sufficient nutrients will not be difficult to obtain.”
“It will take us a couple of days to get back to the Delta Quadrant,” Kim said. “Maybe tomorrow night?”
Tuvok tensed visibly before responding, “My limited understanding of Admiral Janeway’s request suggests that it will be necessary fo
r me to spend as much time as possible reflecting on our past relationship prior to meeting with the duplicate you encountered in the Delta Quadrant. I would prefer not to distract myself from my duty until the mission has been completed.” Looking toward Chakotay, he said, “Captain?”
“This way,” Chakotay said. “Commander Paris, you’re with me. When we’re done, you can show Tuvok to his quarters.”
“Aye, sir,” Paris said, falling in line behind them.
Torres and Kim watched Tuvok depart with wide eyes. Paris looked back to them briefly, offering a slight shrug indicating he didn’t quite know what to make of Tuvok’s behavior either.
When they were alone, Kim turned to Torres. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Torres said.
“It’s almost like he wasn’t happy to see us.”
“In all the years we’ve known him, have you ever seen him happy?”
“In his own way, yes,” Kim insisted.
“Maybe he’s worried about the mission.”
“He’s been doing this longer than any of us. You’d think by now nothing would shake him.”
Torres thought for a moment. “It hasn’t been that long since he lost his son,” she said softly. “I meant to tell him how sorry I was to hear about it.”
“He’ll be with us for several weeks. You’ll get a chance,” Kim assured her.
“So, the three of us for dinner then?” Torres asked.
“No. I need to talk with Nancy.”
Torres noted Kim’s trepidation. “What happened?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” Kim replied. “Things were going great. I mean, really, epically great.”
Torres was a little shocked by the implication. It wasn’t an unexpected development, just maybe a little sudden, especially considering all Conlon had just been through.
“But I said some things a few nights ago that really made her angry. She’s been avoiding me since then. I need to fix that.”
“Yes, you do,” Torres agreed. After a long pause, she asked, “Harry, do you think Nancy has completely recovered from what happened? Do you think she’s been able to put it behind her?”
“Until our last conversation I would have said yes,” Kim replied. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Why not?”
“I know she doesn’t remember losing control of her mind and body. And I know the counselor and the Doctor cleared her to return to duty. But there’s something different about her now. She’s more aggressive, more assertive than she used to be. Not that that’s a bad thing, you understand.”
“I’m worried about her,” Torres admitted.
“Me too.”
“Will you let me know how it goes?”
“Are you asking as her commanding officer or her friend?”
“Both.”
Kim paused. “Okay.”
• • •
For the first time in a year, Lieutenant Nancy Conlon’s quarters resembled regulation order. It had taken her the better part of the last two days and the volume of matter she had recycled had been alarming, but the work had helped her to clear her mind as much as her personal space.
This was a new beginning for her, a rebirth of sorts. The person she had been before had wasted time and squandered resources. On duty her work was exceptional, but she had never before extended the same level of precision and care to her personal life. Now that she truly understood how precious time was and how quickly the illusion of endless days ahead could be shattered, she was determined to never again lapse into such carelessness. It was strange to think that she had confronted loss before—Galvan VI came vividly to mind as did her first view of the Omega Continuum—and she had come close to breaking under the existential terror they presented, without fully incorporating the most important lesson such losses could teach. The terror of those days had felt personal, but they had nothing to do with her. They were beyond her control. Throughout those events she had been little more than a witness, a bystander.
What Xolani had done, that was personal.
She could not continue to pretend that her universe would ever again be what it once was or that procrastination was an option. There just wasn’t time.
When Harry requested entrance to her quarters, she considered playing possum. Instead, she moved to the door and confronted him.
“What do you need, Harry?” she asked, and immediately regretted her tone. His face betrayed a wide range of conflicted emotions but paramount was his concern for her, his desire to mend what he had unintentionally broken.
She could not explain to him why that wasn’t possible.
“Tuvok just came aboard,” Kim replied. “We’re about to head back to the Delta Quadrant.”
She continued to stare at him in silence, insisting he do better.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he finally said. “I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. Please let me come in so we can talk about it.”
“Have you reconsidered your previous position on the modifications I am considering?”
Kim was a terrible liar. That had initially been one of his more attractive qualities. His lack of guile had been comforting. She would always know exactly where she stood with him. It was all written clearly on his sweet, gentle face. “Right now, I’m willing to consider anything that will get you to lower your shields a bit and talk to me.”
When she did not step aside, Kim glanced past her at her quarters. She read his surprise.
“What happened in there?”
“I’m just sorting things out.”
“Can I help?”
She knew what her response would do to him. She cared, but not enough to change her mind.
“Not right now,” Conlon replied, and stepped back to allow the door to slide shut between them.
• • •
Commander Tuvok was not surprised when Captain Chakotay requested entry to his quarters a few hours after the start of gamma shift. As with most humans, complicated or unresolved emotional situations unsettled him deeply. Unlike many, he typically refused to allow them to fester, preferring to confront them and move beyond them as soon as possible.
Tuvok had decreased the ambient illumination in the room to almost nothing. A small meditation lamp rested in the center of the floor, a single flickering flame dancing atop it.
“I’m disturbing you,” Chakotay said as soon as he stepped inside. He paused, staring at the long robe Tuvok wore over his uniform. It had been a recent gift from his wife, its wide lapels of black viteen embroidered with Vulcan symbols meant to focus a chaotic mind.
“Yes,” Tuvok agreed.
“Forgive me.”
“Of course, Captain.”
Anyone else might have taken this as their cue to leave. Chakotay did not.
“I thought Tom was going to give you one of our VIP suites,” the captain said as his eyes adjusted to the dimness and took in the relatively small size of the room.
“He did. I requested the change as soon as the slipstream drive was brought online. I found the constant turmoil of the corridor visible through the port distracting.”
“As long as you’re comfortable.”
“Was there something else, Captain?”
“Have I, or have we, done something to offend you, Tuvok? I know it’s been a while, but I would have expected you to take at least a passing interest in the lives of your former crewmates. You seem determined to keep all of us at roughly the same distance that existed when Voyager was back in the Delta Quadrant and you were still on Titan.”
“Upon what do you base that assumption?”
“You haven’t said more than five words to me or anyone else that didn’t directly relate to the mission since you came on board.”
“Forgive me. Aboard Titan I have found little cause to interact with her crew with the same familiar intensity that was commonplace during our years together in the Delta Quadrant. I prefer the distance, as it allows me to focus on my duties rather than complicate
d interpersonal matters.
“I see. Then I guess finding yourself facing what will likely be a series of very personal interactions with Denzit Janeway is disconcerting?”
Tuvok paused, allowing the emotional turbulence that rose when he contemplated the coming days to move through him—observed but powerless to affect his equilibrium. “Yes and no,” he finally replied. “While it is true that I have known this Denzit Janeway longer than anyone else in your fleet apart from the admiral, I expect that the experiences she has endured over the last five years have changed her in many ways. Just as she likely bears little resemblance to the Admiral Janeway we both know so well, she will likely also share little in common with the Captain Janeway who first assumed command of Voyager and was sent to retrieve me from your ship. I intend to listen closely to what she says and to observe her current circumstances and interactions. Only once this process is complete will it be possible for me to determine how best to advise her.”
“If it isn’t the existence of the denzit that’s troubling you, may I ask what is? Kathryn told me that she sent you a personal message advising you of the circumstances of her return from the Q Continuum. She said you never responded.”
“Until several months ago, I believed that I would never again see Kathryn Janeway. My friend and my former captain was dead. I mourned her loss. When I received word that she had returned from the Q Continuum, I was understandably surprised. Initially, I found it challenging to reconcile this development with the natural order of the universe. It seemed inappropriate to me that this one individual should have been granted a reprieve from the constraints of mortality when so many others had perished under equally devastating circumstances without the benefit of such attention. That response troubled me, given that it conflicted with an equal, if not greater sense of relief that Admiral Janeway had, against all reason and logic, survived the destruction of the evolved Borg cube that assimilated her.”
Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies Page 11
