Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle

by Kirsten Beyer

  “I saw enough.”

  “I rather doubt that.”

  “Counselor?”

  “It is my professional opinion that Captain Chakotay is not only ready to resume his post, he is absolutely critical to the mission’s success.”

  “I don’t agree,” Montgomery replied, unruffled. “My impressions of Captain Chakotay were that he was argumentative, hostile, and in no way fit for command at the present time. We need a diplomat out there, not a warrior with a short fuse and unresolved personal issues.”

  Cambridge rose and circled the table, determined to choose his next words carefully.

  “And that’s your professional opinion?” Cambridge asked.

  “What else would it be?”

  “Well, I’m a trained physician and counselor. Which is why, I’m assuming, I was asked to perform the evaluation.”

  “And I’m a Starfleet admiral with over forty years of experience. I know a problem when I see one.”

  “Apparently not,” Cambridge replied coolly.

  “You’ll want to watch your tone, Counselor,” Montgomery said, rising to face him.

  “You didn’t expect him to succeed, did you?” Cambridge asked.

  “No, but I hoped he would.”

  “Then I don’t understand,” Cambridge said softly.

  “That will be all, Counselor,” Montgomery replied. “If you will advise Captain Chakotay that I am ready to see him, I’ll take it from here.”

  Cambridge strode toward the door. He had observed more than his fair share of absurdity in his professional life, but rarely was it so blatant. He paused and turned back to the admiral.

  “May I make a request, sir?” he asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “The next time you concoct an exercise in futility, I’d appreciate it if you would use another officer. I don’t appreciate having my time wasted so egregiously.”

  Montgomery returned his frigid gaze.

  “Dismissed,” he replied ominously.

  Chakotay sat at ease in the white room. Remembering his misgivings of only a few hours before, he was relieved that they had come to naught. He was further amazed that it had taken him so long to finally accept the help he had needed for too long. He knew that the road before him was still long and arduous, but he no longer feared it. Kathryn had once suggested to him that he and Cambridge were very much alike. On the surface the suggestion had seemed absurd. But now he wished it hadn’t taken so long for him to see that she had been right. He found himself looking forward to returning to Voyager, almost more so than when he had first assumed command. There were so many things to be done differently and so many people he had missed and longed to see again.

  His enthused spirits held until Cambridge reentered the room. He’d seen bitter disappointment on the counselor’s face too many times in the past to misread it. A flood of heat rushed to his head as he realized that the counselor had not returned bearing good news.

  “A word to the wise, Counselor,” Chakotay said, rising to meet Cambridge halfway to the table. “Poker is never going to be your game.”

  “A fact I am all too well acquainted with,” Cambridge replied. After a long pause, he said simply, “I’m so sorry, Captain.”

  Chakotay was too, but to his surprise, he didn’t find any anger to accompany that regret.

  “I understand.”

  “That makes one of us.”

  “Given the past eight months, it was always going to be a long shot,” Chakotay conceded. “I don’t blame you—or me, for that matter. I take full responsibility for my actions.”

  “You deserve this mission, Captain. And I did make that clear.”

  “I believe you. But maybe it was never meant to be mine.”

  Cambridge replied quizzically, “You give your higher powers a lot more credit than I ever could.”

  Chakotay nodded with a wistful smile. “That’s only because I believe that they see, as we do not, the whole story. I brought myself to this place. There were lessons to be learned. As long as I live, there will be more to learn, and it is my job now to seek them out. We never really lose the path, Counselor, even when we are floundering in the darkness. We are always exactly where we are supposed to be at any given time and possess every resource that we need. I’d forgotten that by living in the past and fearing the future. From now on, I must live fully in the present. Thank you for reminding me of that today.”

  Cambridge nodded.

  “Watch over our people,” Chakotay requested. “They will push you and they will disappoint you and they will surprise you daily with their capacity for greatness.”

  “I will,” Cambridge agreed.

  “And promise me that whoever Command has chosen to replace me, you serve them as faithfully as you have served me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Dismissed,” Chakotay said calmly.

  “Yes, sir,” Cambridge replied.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Harry hardly recognized Voyager’s former mess hall. In lieu of smaller tables and chairs that provided a casual dining environment, a single podium had been set up in the center of the far wall, and dozens of chairs rested in neat formation facing it. Near the podium, Tom was conferring with Captain Eden, a woman Harry knew only by reputation. He understood from Tom that she had coordinated operations and logistics for Voyager over the past several weeks, and to hear Tom tell it, she was demanding and a stickler for details. Counselor Cambridge soon entered and pulled Captain Eden away from Tom. What Harry could see of their exchange appeared to be heated, at least on Cambridge’s part.

  Kim recognized a few familiar faces scattered about the room. Vorik stood in a corner near the windows, listening attentively to a slight, gray-haired Vulcan. Lasren and Patel were already seated next to a petite human woman bearing lieutenant’s pips whose long brunette hair had been swept up into a neat ponytail. As Lasren and Patel studied the same padd, she looked about, as if she might soon be asked to take a test, evaluating all those present. The Doctor stood between a stout alien male who appeared to be Tamarian and a lithe human female with long, straight, strawberry blonde hair. The Tamarian wore a sciences uniform, which Harry found interesting. He was not aware that any member of this species served actively with Starfleet, given what he believed was an unbridgeable communications gap between them and most of the Federation.

  As several more people, most of whom Harry could not place, entered the mess and either took seats among the gallery or moved to the front to greet Captain Eden, Harry took a moment to study Tom’s face. He was now exchanging pleasantries with a very young woman whose short, spiked blue hair testified to either a mixed heritage or a need to stand out in a crowd.

  Both Tom and Harry had been too busy over the last few weeks to speak in depth about B’Elanna and Miral, but Tom seemed to be holding up well. All Tom had almost grudgingly shared with Harry was the fact that there would be no public memorial service for his family. John Torres and Julia Paris had both agreed with Tom to keep the proceedings within the immediate family. To Harry, this indicated that his best friend was holed up behind a thick wall of denial. He knew that B’Elanna and Tom had been formally separated for months and hadn’t spent much time together in two years, but he never believed that Tom had truly gotten over her. The loss of Miral should have devastated him. To Harry’s amazement, Tom hadn’t even requested a day off since hearing the news. Harry had considered contacting B’Elanna’s father. He knew they’d had a strained relationship but also believed he had tried to reconnect with his daughter when Voyager had returned. Harry’s duties had been so pressing, however, that he hadn’t yet found time to track down John Torres.

  The only person not yet present was Chakotay.

  A robust officer in his mid-fifties with short, full dark hair strode into the room and immediately Captain Eden called out, “Admiral on deck.”

  All present were instantly on their feet and facing the podium, where he quickly took his place.r />
  “Please take your seats,” the admiral said officiously, and everyone hurried to comply. Captain Eden, along with the older Vulcan, the woman the Doctor had been speaking with, and six other officers Harry did not know arranged themselves facing the crowd on either side of the podium, as Tom and Vorik took seats in the front row. Harry quickly grabbed a seat next to the Doctor and found the chair next to him filled by Lieutenant Reg Barclay. Harry was pleased to see the garrulous engineer but knew he’d have to wait until the briefing ended to express that sentiment.

  “Good morning,” the admiral began. “For those of you who may not know, I am Admiral Willem Batiste, and I will be commanding the fleet’s upcoming mission. I know that all of you have been working long hours over the past several months to prepare for this mission and I would like to thank you now for your efforts and to advise you that I don’t expect your jobs will get any easier in the days and months to come.

  “You have all been selected from among Starfleet’s finest to take part in an unprecedented exploratory effort. The U.S.S. Voyager, a ship which has served with distinction for almost ten years, has now been tasked with leading the most advanced fleet Starfleet has ever assembled on a vital expedition to the far reaches of known space. In three days’ time, this fleet will launch and begin a journey to the Delta quadrant.”

  This news was met with absolute silence, as expected of senior officers, but Harry had to swallow hard to hold down his instinctive response to the announcement.

  Are you kidding me?

  Harry wished desperately at that moment that he could see Tom’s face, but he was suddenly certain that he had known for some time what Starfleet was planning.

  “As the fleet’s respective engineering staffs are aware, all of our vessels have been fitted with Starfleet’s next-generation FTL propulsion breakthrough, the quantum slipstream drive,” Admiral Batiste went on. Harry noticed that the blue-haired woman seated behind Tom seemed to sit up a little straighter in her chair at this. “Each vessel will have the ability to use these drives independently as needed, but we will spend our first several days in open space coordinating flight patterns so that for our longest journeys, all fleet vessels will travel in a single slipstream corridor. It will be an exciting challenge for our pilots and one I’m sure they are all looking forward to mastering.

  “Once that task is complete, we will set our course for the demarcation of the terminus between the Beta and Delta quadrants. At that point, three of our ships will be tasked with dropping and testing advanced communications relays which will enable the fleet to remain in time-delayed contact with the Command for the duration of our mission.

  “That mission has several priorities; the most important will be to assess political and geographical changes to the quadrant in the absence of the Borg. As some of you may know, the Borg are believed to have been completely transformed by the Caeliar, an incredibly advanced species that has also apparently left our galaxy for parts unknown. We are going to make sure that this is the case, and we are also going to make our best efforts to establish new and lasting diplomatic relations with the Delta quadrant’s warp-capable species.

  “The experience and expertise of those of you who have already visited the Delta quadrant will be invaluable to our efforts. We go in peace, but we are prepared to face those who might be hostile to our presence. The Federation has no intention of expanding beyond the worlds we already encompass. We will, of course, extend the hand of friendship to any who wish to form alliances with us. Most importantly, we go to chart the unexplored and to seek out new life and civilizations. We do not expect to encounter or antagonize another race as opposed to the principles of the Federation as the Borg, but if they are out there, and if they pose a potential threat to the Federation, our efforts will enable Starfleet to prepare and meet any such threat.

  “We will remain in regular contact with the Command and from time to time will be able to refresh personnel with replacements. You should expect your part in this mission to take no less than three years.

  “These are the officers who will be commanding each of the fleet’s vessels. We will adjourn so that each of you can meet directly with your senior staffs.

  “Voyager will be accompanied by two of our newest vessels: the Vesta-class Esquiline—under Captain Parimon Dasht—and the Quirinal—under Captain Regina Farkas. These three ships have been assigned a dedicated science vessel: the Hawking, under Captain Bal Itak; the Planck, under Captain Hosc T’Mar; and the Curie, under Captain Xin Chan. Rounding out the fleet are three vessels with unique specialties. The Galen, under Commander Clarissa Glenn, which will be staffed by advanced holograms and which will serve as our primary medical resource. The Achilles, under Commander Tillum Drafar, which will carry vital backup components for our technology along with industrial replicators. And the Demeter, under Commander Liam O’Donnell, which will house a vast airponics bay to provide homegrown produce to supplement our replicators, as well as storage facilities for biological resources we may find along our way.”

  Kim’s head was spinning as each captain Batiste introduced stepped forward briefly when their name was mentioned. In time he assumed he would get to know all of them better, but what struck Harry was the conspicuous absence of his captain.

  “Voyager will be led by Captain Afsarah Eden, and as the fleet’s flagship, it will also be my home for the duration,” the admiral finally announced, ending Harry’s confusion but adding to his consternation.

  “If you will all now regroup under your respective commanding officers, they will provide you with detailed reports of remaining tasks prior to our launch. But before you go, let me to say this: I look forward to working with each and every one of you. I realize that this mission may appear to be daunting, but I assure you it is vital to the Federation. Let us move into the unknown confident in our abilities to preserve the Federation’s highest principles and determined to do credit as ambassadors to the Delta quadrant.”

  The admiral’s concluding remarks were met with polite applause. He stepped down with a nod and quickly left the mess, as Harry rose on leaden feet to approach his new captain. Tom was already at her side, along with Counselor Cambridge. Lasren and Patel filed in behind him, along with the Tamarian doctor, the blue-haired pilot, Harry assumed, and the bright-eyed brunette he had noticed earlier. As they mingled through the crowd the brunette tapped his shoulder and said, “Lieutenant Kim?”

  “Yes?” he replied.

  “I’m Nancy Conlon, formerly of the da Vinci.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Lieutenant,” Harry said absently.

  “I know you’re our security chief, but Vorik tells me you’re also quite the engineer,” she said cheerfully.

  “I guess.” Harry nodded.

  “It’s good to hear. I’m taking over Voyager’s engine room for this trip, and…”

  “You’re our chief engineer?” Harry interrupted, less kindly than he’d intended.

  “That’s right,” she said with a little more reserve.

  “What about Vorik?”

  “He asked to be transferred to the Hawking. I think he and Captain Itak are old friends,” Conlon replied.

  Harry looked past her to see Vorik standing beside his new captain and wished suddenly he had a little Vulcan equanimity.

  “I’m sorry,” Harry said quickly. “It’s just a lot to take in all at once.”

  “This is Starfleet,” Conlon replied. “When isn’t that the case?”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Captain Eden said over the din filling the room. “If you’ll follow me, we will move to Voyager’s main conference room to continue the briefing.”

  Harry began filing out behind the others even as his heart protested loudly that he really didn’t want to follow her anywhere. He knew it was unfair, but he couldn’t shake the sentiment. He had faced the Delta quadrant once, but under the steady hand of a captain he would have gone to the ends of the universe to please. Serving under Chakotay had fel
t like a natural transition. He knew Chakotay hadn’t been at his best for a while, but still could not believe that anyone who hadn’t been to the Delta quadrant before had any business leading Voyager. With a deep sigh, he struggled to banish these thoughts.

  Unfortunately, over the next few hours he found that increasingly difficult to do.

  Chakotay had been knocking at Seven’s door repeatedly for several minutes before faint footfalls could be heard approaching from the other side. When she finally opened the door, Chakotay was taken aback by her appearance. Sweat had plastered tendrils of long blonde hair to the sides of her flushed face. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to compose her breathing, and her eyes skittered over his face and beyond until she seemed to register who was standing before her.

  Once she did, she seemed every bit as disturbed by the sight of him as he had been by her.

  “Seven, are you all right?” Chakotay asked immediately. He had actually tried to prepare a few words in advance of his arrival that might break the ice that had no doubt frozen between them in the last several months. The moment he saw her, his concern for her mental and physical health became priority number one.

  “What are you doing here?” Seven demanded as her breathing began to mercifully slow.

  “Right this second I’m worried about you,” Chakotay replied honestly. When she remained rooted to the ground rather than asking him to enter, he added, “May I come in?”

  Seven turned her head swiftly, as if responding to a sound that Chakotay had not heard. After a moment she looked back at him warily, and with a barely perceptible nod stepped aside.

  He entered a dim hall. There was still plenty of late afternoon sun hitting the townhouse’s west-facing front windows, but heavy curtains had been drawn to block the light, and his eyes took a few minutes to adjust to the disarray of the living room to his right.

  Embroidered pillows, which Irene Hansen had lovingly stitched by hand and which normally cushioned the sofa and love seat, were strewn about the floor. The small cocktail table was littered with padds and half-filled glasses of rank nutritional supplements. A potted fern, which had once been the table’s centerpiece, was now tipped on its side on the floor beside the table, loose soil littering the rug. It looked and smelled more like an Academy student’s dorm room at the end of term than the gracious, comforting, and welcoming space Chakotay had visited since Seven had relocated Irene to San Francisco.