Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle

by Kirsten Beyer

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she replied honestly.

  The only thing that might accomplish that would be for him to take her in his arms and hold her. But he seemed in no hurry to do that.

  “Tom, I—” she began.

  He turned on her, his eyes alight with brittle anger. “How could you?” he demanded.

  “How could I what?” she asked, genuinely at a loss. She knew he must be devastated by Miral’s absence, but whatever was devouring him from the inside out was more than that.

  In response, he tossed a crumpled piece of parchment onto the floor between them.

  B’Elanna recognized it at once, and was a little relieved to at least be able to name the monster now sharing the room with them.

  “I wanted to tell you,” B’Elanna said softly.

  “But it slipped your mind?” Tom asked, rising from his seat.

  “No, I…it just…”

  “You decided to put your life and Miral’s at risk without even so much as mentioning it to me?” Tom shouted.

  Finally, B’Elanna found her own rage.

  “And what were you going to do about it?” she demanded hotly.

  “Made damn sure you both left Boreth, for starters,” Tom shot back.

  “Your life was here, Tom. And from here, there was nothing you could have done to help us,” B’Elanna insisted.

  “My life?” Tom said, aghast. “You’re my life, B’Elanna. Miral is my life. None of this means anything without you.”

  B’Elanna was struck more by the force of his words than the substance.

  Before she could summon a response, he spat, “And if you didn’t want me to return to active duty, you should have just said so.”

  “That’s not fair,” B’Elanna cried. “You were miserable on Boreth, and we both knew it. You were practically climbing the walls. And the first chance you had to leave, you did it so fast I’m surprised you didn’t leave a warp trail.”

  Tom closed the space between them. His breath was coming in quick spasms and his face was flushed. In better days this might have been all the impetus B’Elanna would have required to forcibly throw him to the floor before ripping his uniform off him.

  “This isn’t my fault, B’Elanna,” he warned. “It’s yours. And we might not even be here right now if you had decided to tell me what was going on. But you didn’t. You lied to me. Several times. And now we might never see Miral again, thanks to your stupid pride.”

  The soft, brutalized center of B’Elanna’s being began to wail. This was the place that she had guarded from everyone she had ever known, until Tom. This was the part of her he had promised to cherish and protect when he made her his wife. B’Elanna could have gladly closed her eyes and willed herself to die, so devastating was the thought that he would ever intentionally hurt her like this.

  Especially now.

  “You’re right,” she said coldly. “This is all my fault. I should have come running to you at the first sign of trouble. I should have remembered that I am nothing but a woman, a delicate flower to be admired but not respected. I apologize for forgetting my place in this marriage. Do you feel better now?”

  This wasn’t going at all as B’Elanna had anticipated. She knew he would be angry with her for not contacting him the moment Miral was taken. And she honestly believed he had a right to that anger. Further, she did believe that the lion’s share of responsibility for this tragedy should reside permanently on her shoulders. But she didn’t think a little compassion from her husband would have been out of line either. Tom couldn’t think for a second that his suffering at this moment could possibly eclipse hers.

  The truth was, she could only fight alone against so many fronts, and she had neither the patience nor the strength for this one.

  Tom had the good sense to at least appear to be abashed by her words. But B’Elanna’s rage, once kindled, was never so easily slaked.

  “I came back to Voyager because I believed you would help me, Tom. But this isn’t helping. And if you can’t find it in yourself to stand beside me right now, then I suggest you get the hell out of my way.”

  B’Elanna turned on her heel and started toward the door. She didn’t know where she was running to, only that she could no longer bear to be in the same room with Tom.

  “B’Elanna, get back here,” he shouted after her.

  But the moment she reached the door and activated its sensor, she found herself facing Counselor Cambridge.

  “Is this a bad time?” he asked.

  “Actually, it is,” Tom said.

  “Excellent,” Cambridge said, stepping inside.

  Before the door slid shut, B’Elanna noted the face of Commander Logt, standing stoically outside their quarters, obviously still “on duty.”

  Tom seemed to sense that his anger might have just found a more appropriate target. Stepping toward Cambridge, he said, “What I meant was, you shouldn’t be here right now. If my wife or I require your assistance, we’ll make an appointment.”

  “Everyone on this deck knows that you both require my assistance, Commander,” Cambridge said sharply. “None of them are getting any sleep right now, that’s certain.”

  B’Elanna found herself staring open-mouthed at the counselor. Very few people, even professional therapists, would so easily wander into a kos’karii pit.

  “Sit down, both of you,” Cambridge ordered.

  Some deeply embedded Pavlovian response to authority kicked in. Or maybe they both simply recognized a stone wall when they saw one. Regardless, both of them perched side by side on the long end of the desk nearest the door.

  “Now apologize to each other.”

  Tom’s mouth joined B’Elanna’s in the open and shocked position.

  “Time is precious,” Cambridge added, encouraging them to get on with it. “I won’t even insist that you mean it for now.”

  “Look, I don’t know who you think you are, Lieutenant,” Tom said, “but this is completely out of line.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Cambridge said evenly. “Both of you are behaving like children.”

  “I don’t think—” Tom began.

  “Do either of you give a damn about your daughter?” Cambridge interjected. “Because if you don’t, you’d be sparing the rest of us a great deal of hazard if you’d just acknowledge that fact right now.”

  B’Elanna felt a rush of fresh, hot tears rising to her eyes. She turned to Tom, and saw that he too was struggling to hold back an onslaught.

  Cambridge studied them in silence before continuing.

  “I see. Then might I suggest that rather than setting aflame the few tattered shreds of accord that are holding your marriage together, you focus only on Miral right now. These other quibbles, who did or did not do what to whom and when, should definitely be discussed at some length when this crisis has passed, but for now they’re a waste of precious energy and will only serve to further divide you. How you’ve managed to remain a couple this long without learning to disagree constructively will surely top our future sessions. But allow me to redirect your attention to the ball on which the eyes of both of you should be glued. The life of your daughter and, most likely, the fate of the Klingon Empire is now hanging in the balance, and keener wits and calmer heads than these are going to be required if all this is to have the slightest chance of ending well. Those who have taken your child are not going to part with her willingly. Save your strength for them. And in the meantime, get some bloody rest.”

  The counselor’s diatribe effectively drained the heat and tension from both of them.

  “He’s right,” B’Elanna said, turning to face Tom.

  Tom nodded, mutely.

  “I’m sorry,” B’Elanna offered.

  This time, Tom did reach for her, and for the first time since she’d seen the anonymous warning, she remembered what it was to feel safe as his arms pulled her close. The sensation was fleeting, but it grounded B’Elanna long enough for
her to realize that there was truly nothing she could not forgive Tom, especially careless words spoken in anger.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Tom murmured softly into her neck.

  “I don’t know if I can,” she nuzzled back.

  “Ahem,” Cambridge cleared his throat. “I’m sure sickbay has something that might help with that.”

  Tom kept a firm hand around B’Elanna’s waist as they followed Cambridge out of their quarters and made their way to sickbay. B’Elanna would have wrapped him around her like a blanket if she could have, so desperate was she to never again feel such a palpable distance between them as she had until this moment.

  Logt automatically fell in step behind them.

  As they walked, B’Elanna said softly to Tom, “Why do I like him?”

  “I can’t imagine,” Logt replied tonelessly.

  Admiral Janeway intentionally took the longest route possible from the mess hall back to her quarters. Immediately following the meeting she’d stopped by Neelix’s old kitchen, driven there by nostalgia as much as the need for a quick snack. Though the food preparation area—at one time the captain’s personal dining area before Voyager had been flung across the galaxy—had been replaced by several new replicators, she could easily imagine the Talaxian who had become dear to her as any member of her crew, humming softly as he bustled about in the small space, struggling to make the dining room as close to home as possible for the crew. Though she and Neelix still kept in touch, the time between communications was now calculated in months, a fact she genuinely regretted.

  As it happened, nothing the replicator could produce really tempted her, so she settled for a fresh cup of hot coffee before turning her steps back toward her cabin.

  Prior to this mission, she had boarded Voyager only once since its return from the Delta quadrant, and at the time, the ship had been in pieces and she had been leading an assault team whose primary mission was to return Seven of Nine to the cargo bay and give her adequate time to regenerate.

  As she walked, Janeway realized she was unconsciously heading toward sickbay. She knew Seven and the Doctor would be busy with Doctor Kaz, digging deeper into the genetic defect they had discovered, but privately she hoped she might steal a few moments alone with Seven. They hadn’t had a long chat in a while, and Janeway wanted to make sure that Seven was all right. She’d sensed more than a little tension between Seven and the Doctor in their recent briefing and could tell that Seven was straining a bit under the pressure they were all experiencing. No doubt Seven was determined to solve this problem for all of them, but Janeway didn’t want to see her taking too much on herself.

  She passed a few new faces along the way, as well as plenty of old ones. Most seemed genuinely pleased to see her and stopped briefly to chat. It was gratifying to see that so many who had served with her in the Delta quadrant had remained on board when the ship returned to active duty. She doubted that anyone who had requested reassignment would have been denied. But it seemed that the bonds they had forged over those tumultuous seven years remained strong, and their presence was a testament to that, as well as to their faith in Captain Chakotay.

  Janeway didn’t regret her choice to accept promotion. But she would have been lying if she’d said that a part of her didn’t miss walking these halls and knowing that she belonged to them.

  She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Harry Kim dispatching a security team throughout the deck for what was probably a drill. She remembered how mercilessly Tuvok had ridden his security staff when he had held Harry’s position. She had rarely, if ever, found cause to question Tuvok’s mastery of combat tactics and knew that Harry’s ability to move seamlessly from operations to head of security was in no small part due to the vast experience he had gained while serving with the Vulcan. On paper it might have looked like an abrupt duty change, and a challenge that Kim was ill prepared to meet. But Harry was as bright, dedicated, and well rounded a young officer as she had ever met. He thrived on a challenge, and for someone who was certainly destined to assume command of his own ship one day, he would benefit immeasurably by spending as much time at tactical as Starfleet would permit before assigning him to his next logical post, as some very lucky captain’s first officer.

  Once Harry had dismissed his team, he looked up to see Janeway standing nearby. His face broke into a wide, boyish grin, and Janeway couldn’t help but remember the way he’d stood in her ready room so alert she worried he might strain himself, when he had first reported to duty aboard Voyager.

  It can’t be eight years ago. It feels like yesterday.

  “Admiral,” Harry greeted her cheerfully.

  “Carry on, Lieutenant.” She smiled. “I’m sure you’re very busy right now.”

  Kim’s smile dissipated.

  “Has the emperor made contact yet?”

  “No, but I’m sure Chakotay will inform you when he does.”

  Harry nodded before adding, “It’s good to have you here, Admiral.”

  “It’s good to be here,” she replied, “though I wish it was under happier circumstances.”

  “Of course.”

  “How are your parents?” she asked.

  “Oh, they’re wonderful,” he replied. “I spent a few days with them just last week. At the rate they’re going, they’ll probably outlive us all.”

  Janeway smiled. In a softer, more conspiratorial tone she added, “And what about that charming young woman, Ms. Webber, isn’t it?”

  Harry’s face fell. “She’s fine, but she and I, well…”

  Janeway’s heart broke for him as he went on.

  “We’ve decided to part company. I think it’s for the best.”

  “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s all right. It happens.”

  “That it does,” Janeway said, nodding. It was an unfortunate reality that often relationships between Starfleet officers and civilians were difficult to maintain. For a long time, hers and Mark’s had been a pleasant exception to that rule. She would have thought that if anyone was capable of making it work, Harry would have found a way, but she didn’t know Ms. Webber all that well and trusted that if he thought this was the best course for them, it probably was.

  “Be sure and give my best to your parents the next time you speak to them,” Janeway said warmly.

  “I will, Ma’am,” Harry said automatically before correcting himself, “I mean, Admiral.”

  “It’s all right, Harry.” Janeway smiled. “This certainly feels like crunch time to me.”

  Over Harry’s shoulder, Janeway saw Counselor Cambridge, Tom, B’Elanna, and Commander Logt walking hastily through the hall. They seemed intent on their destination, and Janeway hesitated to derail them. At least it seemed that Tom and B’Elanna had resolved some of their differences. You could have cut the tension between them in the conference room with a laser scalpel, but now they walked arm in arm.

  Janeway stepped aside to allow them to pass when B’Elanna’s borrowed combadge chirped.

  “Bridge to Commander Torres,” Lyssa Campbell’s voice called.

  “Go ahead,” B’Elanna said.

  “Incoming transmission for you from Qo’noS.”

  B’Elanna looked to Tom before replying, “Route it to sickbay. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

  Kim joined the group immediately as they continued down the hall. Janeway debated only a few moments. She knew that in her quarters, dozens of communiqués were awaiting her attention. Decan had advised her just after she had returned from the embassy that the list of messages waiting for her review was growing longer by the second.

  But none of that could vie with any credibility for the top spot on her list of concerns right now. Whatever Kahless had discovered could hold a vital clue to Miral’s location, and though her presence wasn’t necessarily required, Janeway couldn’t bear the thought of rustling through red tape while everyone else worked on this problem without her.

  It had always been the
most difficult part of her nature with which to contend. She was a capable leader, but she was also never more at peace than when her sleeves were rolled up and she was actually working on a tangible problem. Unfortunately, the days when Janeway could simply join B’Elanna in engineering for hours at a stretch realigning magnetic constrictors or tinkering with the dilithium matrix were long gone.

  For whatever reason, fate had placed her here and now, and the only clear course she could see ahead ended with Miral safely back in her parents’ arms.

  The rest would simply have to wait.

  Janeway chose to leave the communiqués unread for now and redirected her steps to join the others going to sickbay.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Chakotay had already received Jarem’s report, peppered with interruptions from Seven and the Doctor. To his credit, Doctor Kaz was unruffled by their constant “clarifications.” He might have been relatively new to Voyager, but Kaz had quickly become a presence Chakotay felt he could trust and lean upon, and he’d more than proven his worth. His grace in dealing with Seven’s imperious presence and the Doctor’s tendency toward condescension, which it seemed had been nurtured during the Doctor’s time at the Institute, only enhanced Chakotay’s regard for Kaz.

  The captain was surprised when the doors whisked open and Cambridge entered, followed quickly by Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, Kathryn, and Commander Logt.

  “Kahless has found something,” B’Elanna said immediately. “Doctor, may I use your office?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Kaz replied.

  Paris and B’Elanna hurried into the small office, separated from the rest of sickbay by a transparent wall.

  “The rest of you should hear this,” Chakotay said, inviting the others to crowd around the display station near biobed one. “Doctor Kaz, Seven, and the Doctor have made significant progress in their analysis of the aberrant Klingon genome.”

  “It appears that the mutation which resulted in the birth of these children is not, as we first suspected, a random anomaly,” Kaz advised the group.