UNIFICATION
RATED G
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters and the premise
behind Star Trek.
1st Place, Love Through the
Years
It was nearly time.
Captain Janeway
poured her fourth cup of steaming coffee, sipped it cautiously and set it down
past the point where a careless elbow might send it splattering across her
desk. She treasured the delicate china
cup, one of a kind, originally designed for tea. Stacks of padds
chronicling everything from Tom Paris' recent promotion; the acquisition of two
alien but friendly crewmembers, to the temporary reassignments of the surviving
Starfleet personnel and a list of the captured Maquis cell surrounded her
monitor.
The death of so many
crewmembers, her own First Officer included, had been a harsh blow to this
mission, harsher than their present situation.
She silently vowed that Voyager would lose no more crewmembers on the
long return home. It was a vow
impossible to keep, she knew, but she made it nonetheless. Their greatest loss had been that of their
Doctor, but perhaps, temporarily, they could manage with that - eee-lec-tronic man - as Neelix had called him. In spite of herself, she smiled at the
thought. But - first
things first. She put on her best
Captain's face for the coming interview.
She folded her hands and
glanced at the chronometer. Precisely on
schedule, her door chime sounded. He was
admirably prompt.
'Come in,' she said.
Chakotay, Captain of the Maquis ship Liberty, stepped gracefully through
the entry and stood at rigid attention, hands locked behind his back. 'You wanted to see me, Captain.'
Disciplined. Courteous. Professional. Respectful - but tense, as
if he anticipates the worst. He's
got the bearing of a first-class officer, despite that outfit. She smiled slightly to ease the moment and
gestured toward the chair before her desk.
'Have a seat.'
'Thank you, Captain.'
'Would you care for
coffee? Tea?'
'Tea would be fine, thank
you.'
She expertly poured and set
the Starfleet-issue cup before him. 'I
was hoping you would say coffee. It
would help if we had similar tastes.'
An expression of quizzical
astonishment flitted over his dark features, as if he couldn't gauge whether or
not she was joking.
'Captain?'
'There is an important
matter that I would like to discuss with you.
It concerns your crew...and mine...since we now occupy the same
vessel. Again, I offer my condolences on
the loss of your ship.'
'She ran a good
course. As for myself
and my crew, we naturally anticipate being assigned permanently to the brig.'
'Do you think that's
necessary?'
'The question is, does Starfleet think it's necessary.'
'Wouldn't you agree that
we're a long way from Starfleet right now?'
'Only
from my chair to yours, Captain.'
She arose, china cup in
hand, walked around her desk and ascended the two steps to the upper
level. She stared at the unknown stars
streaking past the broad window for a moment, lifting the cup to her lips.
That cup suits her, he was
thinking as he patiently waited for her to collect her thoughts. Feminine, graceful,
delicate -- but able to withstand bitter elements at high temperatures.
'Audietur et altera pars,' she
said in a strong voice then turned to regard him. 'You went to the Academy, Chakotay…'
she prompted.
'May the other part also be heard,' he translated, smiling.
'Assigning any of the
Maquis to the brig was never an option.
Our situation is the consequence of my decision. And, as it stands now, we're going to need
the expertise of every person on board this ship. We're all going to have to work together,
wouldn't you agree?'
'It's going to be
difficult. Two crews...two
Captains. How are you going to work out
the logistics of that?'
She measured her words
slowly. 'Voyager won’t have two crews, Chakotay. We
wouldn't survive that way, and you know it.
I'd like to hear your thoughts on unifying our people - not your Maquis
crew and my Starfleet crew. Just one crew. A Starfleet crew.'
'My
thoughts? Captain, every one of us has spent the last two
years as sworn enemies of the very uniform you wear. How can you ask us to swear allegiance to our
enemies?'
'Because it's time to put
those differences aside until we get home.'
'What happens after we get
home? Do you turn us in?'
'Why take that into
consideration now? Seventy thousand
light-years means...’
'A long
time to get acquainted.'
Now was no time to crack a
smile at his ready wit. 'That's right,'
she replied. 'Are the Maquis capable of
that?'
He set down his cup, rose
from his chair and joined her on the upper level. 'I'm
capable of it, Captain,' he assured her, looking her straight in the eye. 'As for my crew...' he sighed, 'I'll talk to
them.'
'Do more than talk, Chakotay, because this is how it has to be.'
'Captain, every one of them
is going to have difficulty with this.
Some will rebel; some will refuse outright. And there’s one or two who could be a danger
to the ship.'
'It's up to you to make
sure that doesn't happen, because I'm appointing you as my First Officer, full
rank restored and field commission granted.
You'll be responsible for every person on board this ship.'
He was silent for a long
minute. 'Captain, I appreciate your
confidence in me when you hardly know me, but with all due respect, Lieutenant
Tuvok is the obvious choice for your First Officer.'
'You are the obvious
choice. I'm familiar with your Starfleet
records, which were exemplary. You wore
this uniform not so long ago, and you were their Captain. They respect you. I can't think of a better way to manage both
crews. Besides,' she said with a smirk
and a twinkle in her eye, 'two Captains would be rather cumbersome, don't you
think?'
He nodded solemnly, his
allegiance to her growing by the minute.
'Under ordinary
circumstances, I'd agree, but I'm going to need Tuvok in security and for
tactical. I'm calling a staff meeting
tomorrow to begin sorting everything out.
So...are we in agreement?'
'Your crew may have
problems accepting the authority you've given me,' he cautioned.
'Not if we present a united
front. They're professionals,
remember. I didn't say it was going to
be easy, Chakotay, but I think it's possible to meld
the two crews into one. We have to - for
our own survival.'
He looked down at the
delicately small but somehow dynamic woman.
She had earned his respect during their recent dealings with the
Caretaker. She had earned his trust, not
lightly given. He knew in his heart that
he would follow her to the end of the universe.
She offered her hand and he took it, sealing the bargain. He had entered this room expecting to spend
the rest of his life incarcerated and instead found a friend and ally. She called on him to join her, because her
tribe was too small and weak to defend itself from all its enemies. The long road ahead would be dangerous and
difficult - but together, they would get their crews home.
'Now,' she grinned, heading
back down toward her desk, 'let me introduce you to coffee.'
The End