Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Captain!" A voice called out from across the room, cutting the tension. Reminded of her rank, Kathryn straightened herself. Turning her head in acknowledgment, she passed a glance over her shoulder toward the door. "If you'll come this way."

Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to him, self-willed. Stubbornly raising her chin yet keeping her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Chakotay." Pausing to clear the emotion from her throat. "I have to go."

Warring with himself, Chakotay wrestled his fingers into fists, knowing that now was not the time. Knowing their moment had stalled somewhere in the Delta Quadrant. "Take care of yourself, Kathryn."

With a subtle nod, she swallowed thickly, still refusing to meet his eye.

"Commander." Another voice called out with an air of impatience from the other side of the room.

"Coming," Chakotay answered and risked protocol by turning his back on her, his Captain and his heart.

July, 2378

Chakotay inhaled deeply as he mounted the final step towards the entrance, hoping the bolus of air would cushion the ache in his chest and slow his rapidly beating heart. As the memory of their final goodbye faded, he reminded himself that tonight was a night for celebration, to honour Voyager and her crew and the prosperous life ahead, not to dwell on heartache and sacrifice. Pushing aside the emotions he was - once upon a time - so good at keeping in check, he looked to his left and gave a dimpled grin, linking arms with the woman next to him. "I think we're late," he rushed as he picked up his pace towards the Federation Ballroom.

A warm glow had replaced the cold, sterile Starfleet aesthetic and a soft, simplistic decor gilded the reception hall. A gentle piece of music played over the happy hum of the growing crowd, creating an intimate setting for their reunion. Chakotay halted at the entrance, scanning the sea of faces before him; so many he knew and some he did not, although there was vague recognition from stories and holoimages; they were the family and friends of the crew. The grip on his arm tightened. "Wow!" He looked over to see his sister's eyes, wet with pride, "Chakotay, this is incredible." A humble smile touched his lips as he tucked his chin, grateful for her presence at his side.

Chakotay lifted his eyes, returning his gaze to the crowd in front of them, and his breath hitched as he found her. There, across the room, flanked by several fleet officials and what he assumed were her own family and friends, stood Captain Kathryn Janeway.

Over three months had passed since he last saw her, and even after all that time, he was struck, mesmerized by her all over again. The dress she wore was stunning. The fabric was a deep shade of grey and looked sharp and metallic but also as soft as velvet. It tastefully hugged her body, making his fingertips burn with a desire to touch her. Her hair was shorter, much like it had been when she first decided to cut it, telling him then that it felt like one of the only things about herself she could control. Her skin was glowing, giving off a bronzy hue that could only be achieved by spending days in the sun, and a nostalgic smile lifted his cheek as a flash of New Earth danced through his memory. And when she turned her head, he was taken aback by her smile, wide and relaxed; his stomach clenched at the sight of it, throwing him back to a time when she would look at him with a smile just like that, easy and free.

As he drank in her presence, a touch of concern furrowed his brow; her rejuvenation appeared to be only skin deep. Chakotay could easily see the changes to her frame, smaller and harder, and she now resembled the lithe, fit and fighting Kathryn Janeway that had chased him into the badlands nearly eight years ago. The tension and fatigue that had worked their way into her features during their time in the Delta Quadrant had dissipated somewhat, but he could tell from her posture, her subtle movements, that she was drawn – tired.

Beside him, Sekaya gasped softly, breaking the spell and pulling him from his reverie. A warm smile dimpled her cheek, and she spoke quietly - "that's her" - more to herself than her brother, as her eyes focused on Captain Janeway. Chakotay nodded unnecessarily before inhaling deeply, praying for resolve to get him through this. He turned his attention back to the room, and a vigorous gesture caught his attention. His heart leapt with joy, and he grinned in response; it was Harry Kim.

An abrupt movement in her peripheral vision tugged at her attention. Turning her head, she spotted Harry Kim across the hall, gesticulating wildly to catch someone's attention. Ever curious, her brow quirked, and Kathryn leaned away from her conversation to gain a better view of the ballroom. Chakotay. Her heart swelled at the sight of her first officer, and her hand unconsciously settled over her stomach. Straightening her spine, she tried to coax her attention back to the voices surrounding her as her pulse hastened, fluttering in her neck. The noise that filled the room dulled to the ambient sound of Voyager's engines.

With her eyes locked on the viewscreen, Kathryn blindly reached her hand over the arm of her chair to grasp Chakotay's wrist. Despite how she felt about him - and them - she knew in her heart that they were better together. They had been through so much, endured more than any two people could, and had come so close. Together they managed to get their crew, their people, home. And together, they had made it to the finish line only to cross it alone. Given the time and space, she knew she would weep over this moment, but for now, they were about to cross the threshold into Earth's orbit.

"All hands." Chakotay turned to look at her, moving his hand to link his fingers with hers. Kathryn's eyes sparkled with unshed emotion. "It is my privilege to inform you all that we have reached Earth. We are preparing the ship for docking with McKinley Station. Go to blue alert and report to code blue stations." She swallowed tightly, "and welcome home!"

Before the comm ended, the entire bridge crew heard the jubilant roar that erupted throughout the ship, and she smiled triumphantly. As relief flooded her, she closed her eyes, desperate for a moment of private reprieve. And when Chakotay squeezed her hand and quietly whispered, "welcome home, Kathryn," it stung, the moment too bittersweet to hold onto, and she pulled her hand away, lacing her fingers in her lap. "Mr. Paris," her tone void of emotion, "take us in." Setting her jaw with a heavy sigh, she watched their careful approach towards the space station.

Kathryn's chin gave a subtle quiver as her eyes refocused, blinking back into the present moment. Only two people in the entire galaxy could read her so perfectly without a spoken word; one had just joined the celebration and was walking across the ballroom to join Harry Kim and his parents. The other was standing directly across from her, staring with concern stitched into her brow. They held each other's gaze for a beat before Kathryn ended their wordless conversation with a roll of her eyes, turning her attention to Admiral Blye and hoping no one else noticed her lapse. Gretchen Janeway continued to watch her daughter with a soft, wistful smile pressed to her lips.

Chapter Text

December 2377

The final explosion that forced Voyager back into the Alpha Quadrant had significantly damaged the warp core, rendering it offline and leaving only impulse engines to carry them home. A flux of excited energy consumed the crew as they inched closer to the finish line. Flanked by more than a dozen fleet vessels, one light year felt like a hundred as the ship limped towards Earth. The Captain and the Commander continued to work together, supporting the crew and overseeing systems and operations, all of which were essential for getting them home. But now there was a distance, a rift, a tear in their once seamless unity. Grateful for her shield, Kathryn was able to hide behind her commission and was kept mercifully busy with a barrage of transmissions and comm calls—spent significant time coordinating with Starfleet Command, planning their next steps and waylaying their fears about the Borg, offering reassurances that everything would be covered in her report.

But where to begin? Her report had to be meticulously crafted, disclosing enough detail to implicate a breach in the temporal prime directive and simultaneously withholding enough information to maintain it. It was daunting, and every time she approached her task, trying to find a way to explain the origins of their return to the Alpha Quadrant, she found her mind wandering, drifting to Chakotay and the countless ways she had failed him.

The pain buried in the Admiral's eyes matched the ache that flooded Kathryn's chest; the declaration hit its mark, striking her in the heart with a single, expertly executed blow. Their shared affinity for Chakotay was palpable, and the younger had to turn away, unsure how much more her fractured psyche could take. All her training in diplomacy and neutrality obliged her to compartmentalize yet another reaction and temper her response. With a breath, a wave of emotion surged through her and faded, leaving her bereft.

Suspicion had plagued her for weeks, wondering if someone had captured his attention, but she dismissed the rumours that raced around the ship and took comfort in her ignorance; as long as Chakotay wasn't saying anything, it couldn't be true. But it was. And with a sobering awareness, she knew that she had taken him, and their relationship, for granted. The crux of the Admiral's admission, temporal disruptions be damned, was that their heart continued to beat for one man alone after so many years.

She once told Chakotay that she couldn't imagine a day without him, and now that irrevocable truth paralyzed her. Having spent years bending and flexing herself around opaque perimeters, she felt they had carved out a relationship that was uniquely fulfilling and safe, and honest. His omission had shattered her resolve, and Kathryn found herself drowning in confusion. Chakotay was still the same man, calm and steadfast by her side, challenging her in ways that made her better, and yet she despised him and the way her emotions were caught on a pendulum, shifting from joy to sadness to anger. Around him and their crew, she could turn off every feeling part of herself, maintaining the image of a capable and confident Captain Janeway. Yet she found herself longing for solace, saying anything to escape, anything to protect the integrity of her faltering heart. Their homecoming had begun to feel like a double-edged sword, pain laced with relief, cutting both ways.

Once docked with McKinley, the itch to get off the ship became palpable. A restless agitation spurred her on and made Voyager feel like a cage. With the clamps in place and the propulsion system offline, the crew was ordered to begin the tedious process of disembarking, and Kathryn was grateful for another round of distractions.

"Katie!" Admiral Paris strode onto the ship, arms stretched out for a welcoming embrace. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you." He whispered into her hair.

She squeezed a little tighter as a watery smile washed over her lips. "You too," she choked out and wondered what it was tugging at her composure; the Admiral's touch, his familial presence, their success, her exhaustion, Chakotay's ever-close proximity-the list was endless. "We have an incredible homecoming gift for you," she leaned back in his embrace with a smile.

The older man dropped his arms and sheepishly tugged his jacket back into position, a proud smile pulling into his cheek. "Yes, I've been talking with Tom." Owen Paris looked over to Chakotay, recognizing him as the former Maquis Captain and the man responsible for bringing Tom and the mother of his first grandchild together, and nodded. "I look forward to meeting the baby and B'Elanna, too, of course. But before I do that," he turned to acknowledge the officers that had fallen in behind him. "I'd like to introduce you to Admiral Blye." A younger, uniformed man stepped forward. "He and his team will be conducting your debrief."

Captain Janeway offered her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"It's an honour, Captain."

After a perfunctory shake, she let go of the young Admiral's hand and extended her arm, her fingertips blindly catching Chakotay's shoulder. "My first officer, Commander Chakotay." Without hesitation, Chakotay extended his arm and then carried on the gesture pumping hands with a few other officers who had joined them in the shuttle bay. And just like that, after days of pulling away from him, she slipped back into their familiar routine, with Chakotay just a breath away from her shoulder, strong and supportive, her fearless protector.

A brief tour of the ship led their small group to her ready room for a cup of (hopefully her last) replicated coffee and an informal chat. "Well, it's clear to see," Admiral Blye smiled at them both, "we've got a lot of ground to cover. I suggest we finish offloading the crew and then begin powering down the ship in order to start downloading the systems for analysis. The ship will be sealed at 1600, re-entry with your clearance or higher Captain." Kathryn nodded. "I'd like the opportunity to introduce myself to your crew. I'm sure they're eager to get home; however, I have some unfortunate news." The Captain and Commander gave each other a passing glance. "Command has requested a two-week quarantine to observe for any latent pathogens that might have travelled with you from the Delta Quadrant. During that time, we'll also complete full medical and psychological evaluations on your crew before granting them leave."

Kathryn felt Chakotay's eyes burning into her, and she wondered what he was thinking; it was hard to tell these days. "Perhaps," she sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "It would be best if we told them together. Tonight, before dinner." The Admiral nodded, seeming to appreciate the added toll this placed on her and the crew. Looking down at the PADDs in her hand, Kathryn considered the weight, the burden of another two weeks; how would her wounds ever begin to heal? A bitter taste filled her mouth.

"Commander," she spoke directly to Chakotay for the first time in hours. "Will you get these manifests to Commander Tuvok? Update him with the plan for relocating the crew over to McKinley. Tell him I'd like a deck-by-deck sweep of the ship beginning at 1500." Lifting her chin, she forced a smile to the brass, comfortably scattered about her ready room. "And will you show the Admiral and his team back to the shuttle bay?" Turning, she handed the Commander a stack of PADDs and then pushed herself up from her perch on the edge of her desk. "Gentleman." Captain Janeway extended her arm, graciously gesturing to the door where Chakotay was already waiting. A dismissal if she had ever given one.

The Captain's presence in the dining hall helped soften the blow delivered in the Admiral's greeting. She was able to temper the groans and pacify any mutinous thoughts, reminding everyone of the patience and perseverance they had all demonstrated up until that point and how she hoped their exemplary conduct would continue to see them through this final stage of their journey. "You've got quite a presence with your crew, Captain." Admiral Blye commented as they sat down to dinner, "they're loyal to you." The notion of loyalty made her cringe as the tendrils of betrayal tightened around her shoulders. Offering a humble smile, she demurred the compliment with a polite shrug. Slowly the chatter surrounding them returned to its jovial tempo; the Admiral picked up a bottle of wine and offered to fill her glass, and she nodded. "Wouldn't Commander Chakotay prefer to sit with us?" He asked, following her gaze.

Kathryn held her breath as she watched Chakotay make his way toward a table across the room. Reaching for a chair between Harry and Seven, he looked up and magnetically, their eyes locked. Regardless of his motivation for sitting with the crew, she was grateful for her freedom and turned her attention away before his smile could affect her. She exhaled and reached for her glass, "not tonight."

The meal was wonderful, filled with homegrown flavours and hearty sustenance that a replicated meal simply could not offer. A soft, wistful smile lifted her cheek as she watched the crew begin to let go, easing into the security of the Alpha Quadrant and relishing in their success. They toasted their safety. They toasted their survival. They toasted their accomplishments. And they toasted their Captain, who graciously played along. However, as the night wore on, she grew weary, and her feeble attempts at conversation became futile. She was exhausted and desperate for solitude, a chance to let her guard down, allowing Kathryn some room to breathe and adjust, and reconcile with herself. With all official business concluded for the night, she finished her wine and stood. "If you'll excuse me, I still have a lot of work to do." Smiling politely to the uniforms around the table, she waved off their protests. When Admiral Paris insisted on one more drink, she used the excuse of her mother, his dear friend, who had waited long enough for her turn with the Captian.

A few crewmen caught her on her way to the door, inebriated by alcohol and emotion, encouraging her to sit and reminisce and join them for a drink. Ensign Palmer even pulled her into an awkward hug before she could reach the exit. Once in the corridor, she was free and began picking up speed, hoping for no more interruptions as she searched for her quarters. Rounding a corner, she feared she had made a mistake and turned the wrong way, "damn," she cursed aloud, suddenly frustrated with her agreement to relocate everyone, herself included, onto the station. Aware of the approaching footsteps behind her, her fingertips ran across her forehead, pressing gently at the knot above her eyes. She yearned for Voyager; her Starship turned safe haven and a chance to hide.

"Kathryn," Chakotay caught up to her, a little breathless.

"Yes, Commander," she answered without turning around. "What is it?"

"You left without..." He started and then stopped himself, falling into step beside her. "You seem like you're in a hurry. Is everything alright?"

"I still have a lot of work to do, Chakotay," turning her face away from him, she began reading the door numbers, slowing just a little. "For such a small space station, it's quite difficult to navigate," she mumbled before glancing back at him. The concern etched into his features caused her to waver slightly, and she quickly looked ahead.

"I suppose it is," Chakotay answered carefully and then hesitated. "Is there really something you need to do right now? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you left because you're avoiding something."

Her restraint cracked, and a sarcastic laugh huffed from her chest.

"Are you trying to avoid me, Kathryn?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. Chakotay had an uncanny ability to read her, interpret her mood with a look, to decipher her thoughts with a word. He was perceptive, and it scared her to be near him, knowing he sensed her absence in the same painful way she felt his. Without turning, she spoke, her tone schooled to mask any emotion. "I'd like you on the first shuttle for Earth tomorrow morning. 0800." She felt his body tense beside her, protesting her suggestion. "I think it will help the crew...to have someone they trust..." She faltered, "to help them settle."

"Send Tuvok!" A demand wrought with supplication. "I prefer to stay here." His indignation softened, and she felt it in her heart, the angry warrior.

"Commander Tuvok and I will be in the final shuttle," she choked. Desperate for an escape, she started moving again; tears burned her eyes as she scanned the corridor, hoping she was moving in the right direction.

"Kathryn..."

Hearing her name, pleading from his lip, was provoking and reignited her frustration, and instantly she was seething. Without looking back, she called over her shoulder, "and take Seven with you."

That was it; the fine line they had been walking for years was now clearly drawn.

"Captain!?" Chakotay's voice was loud, louder than it should have been, and the anger in his tone slammed her in the back. Anger at the realization that her decision was personal. She spun around, ready to attack, only to find that he was right there, his face inches away from hers. He grabbed her upper arms. "Don't do this." He whispered – pleading.

She hesitated for a moment, silently challenging him with her eyes, the voice in her head screaming at him, you did this. But now was not the time for blame, so instead, she buried those words under her heart, alongside everything else she had never told him. Rolling her shoulders, she fought against his weak grip and easily broke free. Backing away, she spoke, her tone dangerous. "0800. Your names are at the top of the manifest." Chakotay's mouth twitched, about to offer a challenge, but she beat him to it. "That's an order, Commander."

Chapter Text

December 2377

Kathryn had done a remarkable thing when she offered him the position of her First Officer. Compelled by circumstance and driven by intrigue, he accepted, mooring them together for their unprecedented journey. The foundation of their relationship was precarious and a little unorthodox, but their willingness and shared sense of adventure sparked a unique alchemy that brought them closer and created an unexpected intimacy that fulfilled Chakotay almost completely. Neither ever fumbled over how well they fit together, selflessly supporting one another without expectation. And despite the many rumours that sailed around the ship, their relationship was a near-perfect projection of platonic. Any romantic interest or sexual desire had been suppressed, pushed aside by duty and protocol but certainly not obliviated. There was something about her fiery, reckless spirit that drew him in, and like a reflex wanting her had become as natural as breathing.

They shared a mutual affection, of which he was certain, and from time to time, he would catch himself wondering, what if? What if things were different? What if they weren't stuck in the chokehold of their commission? Would she relent and tell him what was in her heart? Once upon a time, on a faraway planet and freed from all obligation, there was a fleeting moment when she allowed herself to be vulnerable, and their longing had almost been realized.

Almost.

But up amongst the stars, unified in their devotion to getting the crew home, they funnelled their passion into the journey. The rest, the unvoiced and undeclared, remained suspended in space, only to be considered when and if the binds of circumstance loosened—another fable for another time, in another quadrant across the galaxy.

With time, their friendship evolved into something meaningful, and Chakotay treasured their profound connection. Kathryn was careful with herself, guarded to a fault and often emotionally restrained, and still, he found pride in being one of her few confidants onboard the ship. The chance to know her as Kathryn was a privilege, and the significance of it humbled him. They shared an enviable candour and absolute trust, but certain things, personal things, were protected by unspoken rules. Silenced by a commiserative understanding, they developed a shorthand, often communicating with just a look or a touch that would convey more than words ever could. And he craved for the times that her hand would fall on his shoulder or press into his chest. But still, gestures could not replace the necessity of words.

And that is how he failed her.

They squared off, chests heaving, his posture a mirror image of hers—hands-on-hips. Contempt fueled by stubborn pride.

"That's an order, Commander."

More than her words, the quiver in her voice stopped him, and he acquiesced. Accepting what she wasn't saying, he stepped back, nodding as understanding washed over him. She had come to learn about Seven, and although he fleetingly wondered how he knew it really didn't matter. The truth should have come from him. A judas kiss, the brand of betrayal he was offering was complex, and judging by the pained look on her face, it cut deep.

Stuck under the weight of his guilt, he watched the fight fade from Kathryn's solemn eyes before she, the woman who had never backed down from anything in the time he had known her, walked away from him without so much as a second look. His shame baited him, and his cowardice nagged, provoking a desperate rage, forcing him to restrain his fist to his side and hold himself back from punching the nearest wall.

True to her word, The Captain and Commander Tuvok arrived on the final transport from McKinley Station. When their shuttle touched down, Chakotay was tied up in a cargo hold cataloging artifacts from the Delta Quadrant. When he returned to the dormitory that evening, she was nowhere to be found, and he felt the intention behind her absence. They saw each other in the mess hall the following morning, but it was for appearance's sake and nothing more. She was cordial yet distant, and he knew nothing had changed by the way she avoided his eyes.

Long ago, he resolved to be whatever Kathryn needed him to be—vowing to the spirits that he would support her and protect her until a day came when she dismissed him. Caught somewhere between comrades and companions, she was more than his friend; she was his lifeline. But on the other side of the galaxy, released from the chain of command and away from Voyager and this absurd way of life, Chakotay was certain they could make each other happy.

His memory skipped back to a time when she acknowledged a need for parameters, which confirmed his suspicions and meant that she felt something for him, something that needed to be tamed and restrained. It meant she felt something that reached beyond the scope of their command structure. It meant there was something, and he clung to it with every fibre of his being. So he waited and watched as Kathryn sought to fill that formidable void in her life, swallowing his pride and caging his heart for a woman who determinably would never break her oath and would never bend under the enduring pressures of basic need. Instead, she accepted her penance, supplicating to the Delta Quadrant, which caused them both to suffer. And now; now they were back to simply the Captain and the Commander, maintaining a civil disposition that masked their misery so well that no one seemed to notice the rift between them.

"Commander?" Chiding his silent irritation, he slowly lifted his eyes from the padd he was reading. "I'm sorry to bother you." She paused, "are you alright? You appear... distressed."

Seven's interest in him had been surprising, and he welcomed the diversion after months of wrestling with his decision to move on. Unable to pretend anymore, he had started to accept that waiting for Kathryn was futile; the road before them was just too long.

The irony was profound.

"No need to apologize," he smiled, attempting to hide his annoyance. "I'm just a little busy," and added for effect, "who knew getting lost in space would create so much paperwork."

Seven clasped her hands behind her back. A flash of disappointment flickered beneath her ocular implant before she gave a curt nod, "I'll leave you to it."

"No." Regrettably, spending time with her had begun to feel like an obligation. "Please," he motioned to the chair across from him before Seven turned away. "You look like you have something important you wanted to share," his lame attempts at kindness persisted yet did not reach his dimple.

Her brow twitched again, and she nodded, moving to the proffered chair.

"Something exciting?" He asked once she was comfortable.

"Perhaps," her mouth moulded into a smile. "The Captain has arranged for Icheb and I to travel to Sweden, where we will spend our leave with Irene and Erik Hansen. My..." she paused, testing the word before she spoke, "family."

Recalling Starfleet's initial position that the liberated drones will remain at Command for observation, his brow furrowed in confusion as he spoke. "Really? Does Icheb know?"

"Icheb is assisting with the modifications to our portable regenerators now." Her face brightened subtly, but otherwise, her expression remained mystifying. Chakotay knew that she had been communicating with her aunt, who, it seemed, had been slowly winning her over, regaling her with stories about her childhood and her parents and telling her about their family, many still alive and hoping to meet her. He listened as Seven detailed the arrangements for her trip and was attuned to the fact that he was not involved in those plans. "The Captain felt it was unfair for Icheb and I to be restricted when it is her view that we have been functioning members of her crew and deserve to be treated as such. She wants us to experience this leave as everyone else will."

"Agreed," he murmured. "When do you leave?" His mind was reeling; he had held off on making plans of his own because it felt wrong to leave Seven behind, but now it felt like he had been handed a reprieve and a chance to gain perspective.

"In two days." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"And the Captian..." glancing up as a door to the mess hall opened and Kathryn entered.

"I'm not sure when she's leaving." Seven answered, her eyes narrowed with curiosity.

He watched the Captain move toward the nearest replicator; knowing her request, he imagined hearing her rich voice order coffee, black. Shaking his head, he returned his attention to Seven. "Sorry, I meant, how did she change their minds?"

"I'm not sure." She answered honestly, "I haven't seen the Captain all day. The Doctor informed me of the change this morning."

Chakotay nodded as he looked back to the Captain, who had stopped to speak with a table of crewmen, coffee in hand. He had spent the better part of a week attempting to contrive a chance to speak with her, to test their pulse, and it seemed that opportunity just presented itself. "There she is, there," he shifted, rising from the table. "I have to get these to her," he scooped up the datapadds from the table. "If you'll excuse me," and he started to walk away.

"Of course, Commander." Seven's voice stopped him, and he turned back, regretting how easy it was to brush her off.

"It really is great news, Seven; I know you'll have a wonderful time." And with a quick, perfunctory nod that accompanied her thanks, she stepped away from him.

"Captain," he called out, raising the padds to catch her attention. Moving closer, he watched as Kathryn inhaled, bringing herself up to her full height.

"Yes, Commander," she asked when he stopped in front of her.

"I just heard that Seven and Icheb were granted leave." At the mention of Seven's name, Kathryn's gaze fixed on the other woman, tracking her as she moved towards the exit. "How?" He asked with a smile.

She looked from the door to her coffee cup, rolling and chewing at her lips as she bit back several smart retorts. "Haven't you been watching the news coverage, Chakotay? I'm the darling of Starfleet; I just bat my eyes and get almost anything I want."

The venom that laced her tone caught him off guard, and it took him a moment to collect himself. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Kathryn," he said quietly.

Her brow lifted in indifference.

"Well, whatever you did or said. Thank you," he continued.

Kathryn's eyes shot up, meeting his for the first time since arriving on Earth. "I didn't do it for you," she retorted coolly.

"I…" he stopped, looking down at the padds in his hand. "You'll need these," thrusting them in front of her. "Performance reviews for all junior engineering and bridge officers."

Kathryn sighed and gently shook her head before accepting his offerings. When she looked down at the top screen, he knew she knew how much time and effort so many reports had taken him. Lifting the padds, she used the back of her hand and rubbed at the lines in her forehead, softening her disposition slightly. "Thank you, Chakotay," she practically whispered, and he detected a subtle crack in his name. Without another word, she turned towards the door, leaving him stuck and forced to watch her walk away once more.

Quarantine had been the longest and loneliest two weeks he could ever remember, and the moment they were given official word that it was over, Chakotay left. He suffered an awkward, hasty goodbye with Seven and even considered going to look for Kathryn to make an appeal but thought better of it. After submitting his details to Admiral Blye and confirming the date and time of his return, he headed for the nearest transport station.

Without proper travel plans, it took him nearly three days to reach Dorvan, arriving just in time for the New Year's celebrations. A gift his sister had called him when she finally got the chance to wrap her arms around him. Standing in the middle of a shuttle station, she hugged him like her life depended on it; the power of her embrace filled his eyes with tears as the weight of its absence settled around his shoulders. "I've missed you too," he whispered into her ear.

It had been nearly nine years since he had last seen his homeland, and the differences he saw took his breath away. Everywhere he looked was flourishing with change, and it reignited his pride, reminding him that his work with the Maquis had not been in vain. But those thoughts had a way of grounding him; thinking about the Maquis reminded him of Voyager, and Voyager reminded him of Kathryn. And thinking about Kathryn hurt.

Sekaya took him to his family home, where she and her family resided, having moved in after their mother fell ill. She introduced him to her husband and their children, two boys (and with a pat on her stomach, their third who would arrive in a few months). Chakotay was encouraged to take his time and settle in, to refamiliarize himself with his home, and to rest and relax. It wouldn't be long until they were all submerged into a spectacle that, she reminded him, would carry on well into the next day.

Within hours, family and neighbours began pouring into the house, eating and drinking and celebrating, giving thanks for the year gone by and making promises for the year ahead. Chakotay reacquainted himself with many familiar faces and friends from years gone by. Despite his exhaustion, he moved through the crowd, talking and laughing and temporarily forgetting about the troubles that awaited him on Earth. Sekaya remained at his side, arm linked through his in a way that comforted him beyond measure, and as they raised their glasses, marking the progress in time, she whispered, "welcome home, Chakotay."

Hours later, Chakotay found himself alone by the fire with a quiet melancholy settled around him. The alcohol had warmed his body, and he felt the heat of it painting his cheeks. The air around him was still, and with a crack, sparks jumped off a flame and rose into the night sky. Looking up, he took in the beauty of the moons, big and bright and full, and he lost himself in his thoughts. The fire popped loudly, pulling his attention back to Dorvan, and that's when he noticed her standing with her arms crossed, watching him with a wistful expression on her face.

"I have always known you to be the heartbreaker, Chakotay." Sekaya stepped towards him, the fire illuminating her pale clothing and the gloss of her long black hair.

He let out a single, sad laugh. "Oh, I still am." He moved his eyes, inviting her to come closer. "But this time, in the process of breaking a heart, I think I broke mine as well."

Stepping over rocks and sticks, Sekaya unfolded her arms, resting a hand on her stomach as she moved closer to the fire. She perched herself on a fallen log opposite him. "I never thought I'd see the day," her coy smile revealed a dimple that matched his own. "My brother, in love!"

His bashful smile faded as his eyes fell back to the fire. Love? He took a moment to consider the word. "Who is she?" His sister asked as the flames jumped and danced between them. When he looked up, she was watching him again; her patient soul held a quiet calmness that paralleled his own.

"Can I tell you a story?" He asked, and Sekaya nodded encouragingly. "It's an ancient legend about an angry warrior..."

Chapter Text

July, 2378

The crowd around him was in a state of perpetual motion, filled with a fevered energy as people moved about excitedly, eagerly seeking reconnection with the pieces of their lives that had been missing for so many months. The sounds of laughter and an occasional shriek of glee layered over the buzzing conversation that surrounded him. Soon the periphery of the vast ballroom began to fade as everyone clustered closer and closer together. The giddiness was infectious, and soon Chakotay felt his apprehensions dissolve away, replaced with vigour and enthusiasm that had been missing for far too long. With his target locked in, he slowly began inching toward the centre of the room, only to be stopped every few paces to share a happy greeting with another comrade.

"Chakotay!"

Waving at a departing Naomi Wildman, he straightened at the sound of his name. Turning his head, he scanned for the source of the familiar voice. "Chakotay!" He heard it again, this time closer and with more enthusiasm, and before he could react, her arms wove around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. "It's so good to see you," B'Elanna's voice hovered beside his ear as she squeezed him tighter. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he chuckled before kissing her cheek. "How've you been, B'Elanna?"

"We're fine," she answered with a watery smile before stepping back, allowing space for Chakotay and Tom to shake hands. She looked around, taking in the room, "All this sentimentality is having an effect on me."

"She just can't admit that motherhood is softening her tough Klingon disposition." Tom laughed, and without trying, he dodged a jab from B'Elanna's elbow as his hand shot up, waving to a friend in the crowd. "Is everyone here?" He asked, gazing around curiously.

"I think so," Chakotay answered. "Harry introduced me to his parents earlier. Mike's here somewhere, and I was just talking with Samantha Wildman." 

Tom nodded as he continued scanning the room. "What about Tuvok? And Seven?"

At the mention of her name, everyone's eyes fell on Chakotay, who simply shrugged. It was true he hadn't seen Seven, but more than that, he had not spoken to her since the day she was dismissed from the primary debrief and sequestered to Command for further inquiry, a sin he had yet to atone for. Next to him, Sekaya shifted.

"I'm sorry," Tom grinned, instantly turning on his flyboy charm. "How rude of us. I'm Tom Paris and," tilting his head, "this is my wife, B'Elanna Torres." He captured Sekaya's hand and asked, "Chakotay, who's your friend?"

With a warning glance, Chakotay answered. "My sister."

"Of course you are!" B'Elanna quickly switched places with Tom, practically pushing him into Chakotay. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too!" Sekaya smiled graciously at B'Elanna, "I've heard so much about you. Chakotay tells me you have a little one, is she here?"

"NO!" Tom and B'Elanna answered quickly in unison.

"She's got the same temperament as her mother." Tom smirked, then added dryly, "And she likes to demonstrate it when she isn't the centre of attention." B'Elanna fired a look of warning at her husband, who held up his hands in surrender, reminding Chakotay of the couple's many romantic squabbles he observed on Voyager.

A server carrying a tray laden with sparkling champagne flutes floated next to them. "A toast," Tom proclaimed as he passed out drinks. "To friends and family," and they raised their glasses.

"And the way home," Chakotay whispered before taking a sip.

Without missing a beat, B'Elanna and Sekaya quickly struck up a conversation leaving Tom and Chakotay suspended in awkward silence and, after that, painfully superficial small talk until, eventually, Tom took half a step toward Chakotay. Dropping his voice, he quietly asked, "Have you seen the Captain?"

Something about the tone of Tom's voice made him uneasy, and Chakotay lifted his eyes, pretending to search for her amongst the crowd. "I'm sure she's around," he lied as his eyes drifted over where she stood, embedded in a group of flag officials, including Admiral Blye, who was standing far too close for comfort. 

Tom nodded and glanced around quickly before taking another half-step closer. "My father says that they're still questioning her." Chakotay's head snapped, returning his full attention to Tom. "The secondary debrief was supposed to be over weeks ago. Apparently, Starfleet is fixated on the Borg and, of course," Tom gave a lopsided shrug, "the violations of the temporal prime directive." Uneasiness fizzled in Chakotay's chest. Casually he glanced over Tom's shoulder and watched as the man next to Kathryn placed his hand on the back of her arm, claiming her attention. "He says she's taking it like a champ, though," Tom continued. "And that she is flat-out refusing to bring any of the crew back into it."

"Really?" Chakotay watched Kathryn smile and nod as Admiral Blye stepped away from her, his hand falling from her arm in a way that sparked an oddly familiar feeling deep within him, a sensation that resided somewhere between possession and jealousy. "Some things never change," he mumbled, pulling a laugh from Tom.

Beside them B'Elanna and Sekaya clinked their glasses together, toasting some other acclamation.

"Look, there she is." Chakotay looked back to Tom, who had his head turned, pointing with his champagne flute. "She's with my dad and…. half the brass." Blindly reaching out, he touched B'Elanna on the arm and gestured over his shoulder, ignoring her glaring response. "We should go say hi."

"Hello." An amplified voice called out. "Can I have your attention?"

"If I can have your attention."

Chakotay furrowed his brow before turning his head toward the distinct "hem-hem" sound of a throat clearing. "Excuse me, please."

"If I can have your attention," Admiral Blye called out from across the room. "We should get started; there's a lot to cover today." Chakotay watched Blye fidget with his fingers, forcing the knuckles to snap. "We're nearing the end of this portion of the debrief. Captain Janeway has requested that once all necessary information has been obtained and reviewed, her crew is dismissed, thus releasing them from all obligations related to their commission." Confused, Chakotay scanned the nearly empty room, glancing at Kathryn and wondering why only the two of them were there.  

Kathryn looked up from her PADD, a press in her brow. "Excuse me, Sir, aren't we waiting for...."  

Admiral Blye held up his hand, silencing her as he continued to speak. "We'll be doing things a little differently today, Captain." And Chakotay sat up straight, his uneasiness quickly turning to apprehension. Blye made a fist, forcing another knuckle to pop; a gesture Chakotay had come to learn was a sign of the Admiral's discomfort. "As you are both aware, these proceedings will become public record. However, this committee has the authority to sensor information that is deemed classified or considered sensitive." A flutter of agitation began to swirl in his chest. "And certain elements, specifically as they relate to the Federation's charter and subsequent directives and regulations, should be thoroughly reviewed by this committee and submitted to council for consideration, prior to dissemination into public record."

Next to him, Kathryn leaned back in her chair. Her rigid posture told Chakotay she was uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed. Irritated by the notion of being blindsided, he leaned into the table and opened his hands. "And is there something specific?" His voice held an edge, "some element that requires review?"  

The Admiral cleared his throat, "Yes."

In his peripheral vision, Chaktoay saw Kathryn cross her arms over her chest, bracing her discomfort. "And?" He demanded, his patience waning.

"Fraternization."

"Excuse me," a familiar voice called out over the chatter. Chakotay blinked again as his memory faded, and his surroundings became focused. "If… If I could interrupt for a moment." Turning to the front of the room, Chakotay noticed Lt. Barkley standing on a stage, beaming at the crowd before him and calling for everyone's attention. "We would like to begin in a few minutes, starting with dinner." Untangling his wringing hands, he gestured to the tables before him. "If you could all find your seats.

Chapter Text

April 2378

Admiral Blye had their full attention.

Together they leaned forward into the table, like partners in a tensely choreographed dance. Well-practiced in spatial harmony, his elbow just barely brushed against hers as they folded their arms in front of their chests. Seven years was a lot to unpack, and they'd been at it for months. They were exhausted and honestly a little traumatized from recounting their life in the Delta Quadrant. Chakotay knew that most of this preamble was protocol, a cursory inspection before the dissection, as it were. And as he watched the Admiral shift uneasily in his seat, he wondered if the knife had just been unveiled.

"For your privacy," the Admiral began, "we've decided to speak with you both alone, apart from your officers. The Doctor, Ensign Kim, Lieutenants Paris and Torres, and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok will meet individually with Admiral En'Kor." Then with some levity, he added, "...if all goes well, they'll be dismissed by week's end."

"It was my understanding, Admiral, that we would be talking about our involvement with the Quarra today," Kathryn's firm voice took on a pedantic tone.

"And we will," the Admiral nodded stiffly, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity of Voyager's command team bearing down on him.

"Any fraternization that may have occurred during our time in that sector happened without any knowledge of Federation policies and regulations." She raised her chin defiantly, "Our minds were altered, suspending any memories related to Starfleet and Voyager."

As Kathryn spoke, an image of Jaffen floated through Chakotay's mind.

"Alright," the Admiral acquiesced. "So, let's start there. Computer," Blye picked up his PADD and thumbed over the screen. "Begin recording." After dating and coding the log, he had everyone state their name and rank for the record before moving on. "Your PADDs have all relevant information, logs, sensor data, operations and tactical information from the point of your away mission, Commander, that commenced on star date 54572." Blye looked at Chakotay while gesturing to the table in front of them, and simultaneously he and Kathryn reached for their PADDs. "As always," Blye offered a weary smile. "Let's start at the beginning."

And so, they did; Chakotay outlined his away mission and its objectives. Kathryn recounted the moment Voyager encountered the subspace mine, the crew falling ill with tetryon poisoning and their subsequent evacuation. Slowly the atmosphere in the briefing room shifted as tensions dissolved and all thoughts of fraternization faded. It took the rest of that day and most of the next to review the crew's experience with the Quarra. Humouring the Admiral's attention to detail, they suffered frequent interruptions to answer leading questions, which often led to speculations as they indulged him with their insight.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky, sending beams of sunlight cascading through the windows, painting the table with a blinding glare. Kathryn had just finished affirming the Doctor's report detailing the techniques used to alter the crews' memories and the methods used to revert the changes. "Fascinating," Blye murmured, clearly astonished. "While completely unethical, the Quarran's use of this technology was purely self-advancing." He continued, "But if it was to fall into the wrong hands..."

Chakotay finished his thought. "It could have devastating effects."

Beside him, Kathryn nodded while forging ahead, "I suspect Commander Chakotay recovered much quicker than the rest of us because he only underwent the initial engrammatic masking and disruption, where the rest of us received daily inoculations of memory suppressant.

"Which is why you, Commander," Blye looked across the table, squinting through the rays of sunlight, "assumed command of Voyager first. Relieving your ECH on star date 54622.4."

"Yes," Chakotay answered.

Admiral Blye nodded as he rubbed his hands together, forcing his knuckles to crack unnervingly. Sitting up a little straighter, Chakotay watched the Admiral tap the PADD in front of him; a cut was coming.

"First Officers Log Star Date 54624.6." The sound of his voice filled the room. "With the help of the Quarrans, repairs to the ship are underway, and we plan to depart as soon as they are completed. As a gesture of good faith, the Quarran ambassador has supplied us with a generous supply of Tylium, with hopes that it may be a viable power source for the ship. The crew is slowly returning to duty. The process of resequencing their memory engrams is taking considerable time and, in some cases causing significant distress, which has resulted in a slower but necessary reintegration process. I am told that Kathryn is doing well and is expected to return to duty active tomorrow, at which time I will hand over command of the ship."

And there it was. Chakotay swallowed tightly. In an official log, he addressed the Captain by her first name, with only a hint of her rank—a first cut indeed, into an already deep wound.

There was no mistake, she heard it too, and he could feel the tension radiating from her. Desperately he wanted to look at her, to offer some sort of silent apology but knew that would have even bigger implications; and besides, she hadn't looked at him in months. So instead, he kept his eyes focused on the table in front of him, but in his periphery, he noticed the subtle shake of her head as Admiral Blye let the log playback lapse.

"Computer, halt recording," Blye ordered, taking their proceedings offline. He picked up the PADD next to him.

"Regulation Four. Paragraph 3. Fraternization amongst Starfleet personnel can have detrimental effects on operational principles, posing threats to security, morale, cohesion and discipline." He glanced up at them before continuing. "Paragraph 4. Fraternization amongst Starfleet personnel risks an adverse effect on the chain of command. All commanding officers are prohibited from engaging in personal relationships that may be considered inappropriate, including but not limited to those of an intimate nature." He set the PADD to his side and looked over to Kathryn. "Being addressed by your given name, Captain, by a subordinate could be interpreted as a violation of Starfleet's code of conduct regulations." He looked back to Chakotay. "I have met with every member of your crew, read every report and listened to nearly all your logs; research, operations," he rolled his hand in midair, "navigation, tactical, and other than the assumptions of a few misguided crewmembers, this was the first hint of a conduct issue I uncovered, until…" he reached for his PADD, and Kathryn's head snapped to attention.

"First Officer's Personal Log," Chakotay's voice surrounded them. "Star date 54627.1."

"That's private," Kathryn raised her voice to be heard over the recording, "and has no bearing on these proceedings!"

"The transition has been hard... for us all. I see it when I look at the crew, at the sadness and fear in their eyes. And I see it when I look at Kathryn." The tone of his recorded voice softened. "I know, right now, she's grieving. Not only for the life she had built for herself on Quarra but for everything else she's lost. I can only imagine how difficult her memory resequencing has been as she's forced to come to terms with life onboard the ship again. And as much as I might try to help ease her burden and the pain of her sacrifice, I know she'll refuse. Kathryn's pride in her convictions has always been admirable, but ….those convictions are damning her to a life of solitude, distancing her from the crew ...and from me."

"Freed from the weight of her responsibility, I watched her experience an unrestrained happiness I haven't seen in years. A happiness that I'm certain she would never allow herself on board Voyager, as much as I might hope. It's clear that she needs companionship, which is the first thing she let go of when we got stuck out here in the Delta Quadrant and the first thing she found on Quarra." Chakotay sighed. "As difficult as it may be, perhaps it's time I encourage her, as her friend, to seek out other meaningful connections for the sake of her wellbeing."

Chakotay hadn't lifted his eyes from the same glistening spot on the table, but he could feel her eyes on him and could imagine the look of suppressed shock on her face.

"Perhaps it's time that I take a step back, so we can both find some semblance of fulfillment—if not happiness."

Admiral Blye danced his finger over his PADD, and Kathryn's voice filled the room within seconds. "Captain's personal log."

"Stop!" She turned on Blye, slamming her hand down on the table.

"Star date 54628.5. I've been back onboard Voyager for six days now, reclaiming command of the ship this morning." There was a long, thoughtful pause. "It's been difficult," followed by a tremulous sigh. "I'm finding it hard to come to terms with everything that has happened. I'm grateful to be back on the ship and to have my people back, but my time on Quarra (willingly or not) awoke something inside me, forcing me to realize just how lonely I've been."

"Disinhibited, I'm not at all surprised by how quickly I settled into a new life or how eagerly I was swept off my feet. And, I must admit, I'm a bit envious of that Kathryn, freed from the ties that bind me to my commission and this monastic life I have created. But I was only a fraction of myself ...and I belong here, with someone else."

Chakotay's eyes widened as he listened.

"He asked me today if I was sorry that he came looking for me…." Kathryn's voice broke with emotion, and there was another long pause before she continued. "Chakotay grounds me; he brings peace and a sense of safety to my life, and looking back, that comfort was always missing on Quarra."

"I remember the struggles I faced when we entered the Delta Quadrant; how to Captain this crew, how to support them and guide them while maintaining my distance and control, and I know now that some things just aren't feasible for them, or for me. Perhaps it's time I re-evaluate my perception of Starfleet conduct regulations. Given our circumstances, are they really necessary, or am I hanging on to ideals that will realistically go unchecked? Goodness knows we've had to bend to the Delta Quadrant on many occasions, and" the chirp of a comm badge ended her log.

The colour was high in her cheeks as she gazed up into a beam of sunlight that hung in the air. Emotion pooled in her eyes, a blink away from release. Chakotay stared, incredulous. The urge to touch her was strong, but instead, he laced his fingers together on the table in front of him and watched as her pulse fluttered in her neck while he considered what she had said, what she was implying.

"I find it remarkable that these logs were entered on the same day," Admiral Blye commented softly. "Forgive me, Captain," he looked remorseful as he passed a look between them, "Commander." And Chakotay watched as Blye fidgeted with his PADD. "I-We had to know, and based on your reactions here today, I am satisfied that your relationship, while incredibly complex, did not breach any conduct regulations." He sat back in his chair, "I am so terribly sorry, I.."

Kathryn held up her hand, dismissing the Admiral's feeble apology while silently pleading for a moment to collect herself. 

"Computer. Resume recording." The Admiral's voice had regained its official tone. "Commander, do you have any reason, to your knowledge, why you would refer to your Captain in such a casual manner?

Defeated, Chakotay shook his head, and remembering they were back on the record, he answered, "No."

"I see." Blye glanced sympathetically at Kathryn. "Is it fair to say that memory lapses occurred even after engram resequencing?"

Furrowing his brow, Chakotay answered truthfully, "Yes."

"Would it also be fair to say that because you were on a first-name basis with Captain Janeway while on Quarra, this slip may have resulted from a memory lapse?"

Sitting up straighter, he considered the Admiral's rationale, "I suppose it's possible."

Blye looked down at the PADD in front of him and then moved on without another word on conduct or fraternization. "I've read the report from Lt. Torres, the Tylium was unsuitable and could not be converted to a usable energy source for Voyager," he thumbed over the screen.

Beside him, Kathryn found her voice. "That's right. But we were able to trade it for Dilithium at a trading post in the next sector."

"And you departed Quarran space on star date 54627?"

Chakotay cleared his throat. "Correct."

Chapter Text

Heat danced across her throat as she quickly swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "Come in," Kathryn said into her mug before taking another sip and placing it down amongst the scattering of PADDs on her desk. The door parted with a hiss to admit her newly appointed First Officer, who looked tense and uncomfortable. With a hesitant step, he crossed the threshold to her ready room and moved towards her. With a tug at the sleeve of his jacket, he rolled his shoulder and came to a stop in front of her desk.

"Captain," he said with a nod.

"At ease, Chakotay." She smiled, sensing his trepidation. "We aren't official yet." Fidgeting with her comm badge, she asked, "Would you like some coffee."

He glanced down at her coffee mug, which was nearly empty. "No, thank you."

Watching him from behind her desk, she was impressed by how good he looked in uniform; the black and red suited his skin tone, highlighting the lines of his tattoo and the sparse grey hairs at his temples. He was handsome. "Anything?" She pressed, "Tea, water?"

"No, thank you." He gave a hesitant smile, "I'm fine."

She gestured for him to sit as she uncrossed her legs and leaned into her desk, lacing her fingers under her chin. A thousand questions filled her mind. "How are your quarters?" She tossed out, starting safe.

"Fine," he offered again, and she wondered if vagueness was his default.

"And your crew? How are they adapting to life on Voyager?" Her gaze flickered to his tattoo; intrigued, she wondered if she would ever get the chance to learn its origins. 

"They're settling in," his passive face revealed nothing.

"Planning a mutiny, already?"

The corner of his mouth turned upward. "Let's just say some are having an easier time accepting our circumstances than others."

Kathryn sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling with a sigh. "I can only imagine." Then, after a beat, she looked back to his face, "And what about you? Are you accepting our circumstances?"

This time, he gave her the courtesy of considering his response rather than jumping to the affirmative. "I'm coming around." The intensity in his gaze matched her own, and he continued, adding, "I'm committed to getting home, Captain, to getting everyone, both Maquis and Starfleet, home. Despite what you may think of me-"

Kathryn held up her hand, silencing his presumptions. "I can assure you, Mr. Chakotay, my thoughts on a number of things have changed quite drastically in recent days." She inhaled as she recrossed her arms, tightening her hold on herself. "How'd they take the news? You becoming my first officer."

A slow grin started to spread, revealing the dimple in his cheek. "They'll come around."

Nodding thoughtfully, a thin line formed down the centre of her forehead, a distant look in her eye. "Do you trust me, Chakotay?"

He shifted uncomfortably but once again gave time to consider his answer. "Trust is a big thing, Captain," and she watched as he leaned forward, resting his forearms onto his thighs, clasping his hands together. "I respect you." His smile was polite, kind even, "and I trust you'll do everything in your power to get this ship back to the Alpha Quadrant." She sensed a 'but' coming. "I've been reading your file-" Her brow quirked at the thought as the door chime interrupted him before he could finish.

Kathryn gave a final appraising glance at the former Maquis captain, the handsome man in a crisp new Starfleet uniform, her new, self-appointed first officer and hoped like hell that she was making the right decision. "Come in."

The door opened, and for a moment, Kathryn wondered if she saw a glimmer of mirth reflected in his eye, a laugh in his expression over the irony that Tuvok, her smokescreen cum security officer, had interrupted their conversation about trust. And in that moment, a language without dialogue, an unspoken shorthand, began between them. Their eyes connected, and with a look, she responded—touche, Commander.

"Captain," Tuvok addressed her. "Are we ready to begin?"

Moving from behind her desk, she watched Tuvok proffer a small, simple black box, opening it to reveal pips denoting Chakotay's provisional rank of Commander.

July, 2378

"I know you understand, Kathryn, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Pulled from her reverie by the sound of her name, her eyes flickered. Admiral Owen Paris stood beside her, his own eyes fixed on Lt. Reginald Barkley, who was applauding along with the assemblage before them in recognition of Lt. Commander Tuvok as he joined the senior officers on stage. As Reg called out another name, she glanced to her side and responded, "Please, don't be," under her breath, as Chakotay rose from his chair. A wistful smile found its way to her lips as she watched her First Officer approach the stage. "It's better this way," she whispered discretely, "this isn't about me."

"My dear," Admiral Paris split his attention for just a moment, glancing from Barkley to Kathryn and back again. "You're far too modest," his hushed tone made his voice sound harsh. "This is very much about you. Your promotion is well deserved and not long in coming if I have anything to do with it."

Tucking her chin to hide the colour rising on her neck, Kathryn swallowed down the rest of her thoughts on the matter. After a breath, she tightened the grip on her wrist clasped behind her back and looked up in time to watch Chakotay climb up on stage and settle himself next to Tuvok.

With the only official Starfleet business of the evening underway, they had moved on to promotions and commendations for the senior officers. And now that Chakotay stood at attention with the rest of the bridge officers, they could begin. Kathryn stepped forward, nodding her thanks to Lt. Barkley as she moved.

"Good evening," Kathryn smiled at the sea of faces before her. "I'll do my best to make this brief," she promised, her eyes scanning the crowd, making a connection with as many as she could. For so long, she had lived and breathed for the people in this room, and the significance of this night, celebrating the culmination of their collective triumphs, their dominance over the often cruel, damnably punishing Delta Quadrant, washed over her. They were the victors, the survivors, this group she had shepherded through the darkest regions of space, and they were home. Slowly, her smile faded into a sigh, heavy with the weight of remorse and relief—she started. "Nearly eight years ago, caught in a no-win scenario, I made a decision that affected many, many lives. The ripple of that decision extended 70,000 light-years back to the Alpha Quadrant, to our loved ones, the family and friends we left behind. But it also saved the lives of a race called the Ocampa. And it made an adversary (our first) out of a particularly unreasonable group called the Kazon." Kathryn paused and smiled fondly, "it brought us a girl named Kes and a Telaxian called Neelix." A few cheers erupted within the audience, and her smile deepened. "And set us on a journey into the unknown where we encountered new races and civilizations; where we witnessed new phenomena and made countless discoveries.... and a few more enemies. But the biggest, most profound impact was on the lives of two crews, Starfleet and Maquis; one single decision and my, your—our lives—were forever changed.”

“In order to survive, we were forced to unite, to live and work together as one crew. Shaped by our circumstances, crewmen became more than just comrades; we became friends and, in some ways, family. And Voyager became more than a ship; it was our home. It was a beacon of hope and survival and resiliency, a symbol of our tenacity that often preceded us. We were proof of life for the Alpha Quadrant. And throughout it all, these extraordinary men and women standing up here with me thrived, rising to meet not only my expectations as their Captain but also the challenges imposed on us by the Delta Quadrant." Kathryn continued speaking as she turned, her gaze drifting over her senior staff. "I am eternally grateful to each and every one of you," and then fluttered hesitantly, no longer seeking and unable to avoid Chakotay's waiting eyes, "and I would be lost without you."

A flash of unshielded vulnerability ricocheted between them, but their connection was over in a blink as Kathryn turned back to an already cheering crowd. "They are true leaders; their bravery and determination are unparalleled; their commitment to the ship and her crew should be celebrated; their promotions are very much deserving." Raising her hands, she began clapping, igniting a thunderous applause.

"Now, if you'll allow me," Kathryn smiled, lifting a finger to touch the corner of her eye, discretely stubbing out a bit of rogue emotion. "There is someone here tonight who, by virtue of her age, does not qualify for a promotion, but I think it is important that she is recognized for her very important contributions. Not only was Naomi Wildman the first child born on board Voyager, but she has faithfully served as the Captain's assistant for the last 18 months of our journey." There was a slight commotion in the middle of the audience as the young girl squeaked with excitement. "Naomi is a bright young lady; she is kind and incredibly loyal to her crewmates, and I'd like to ask her up here to assist me with one final task." Kathryn paused, scanning the crowd. "Naomi, where are you?"

"Here!" A small hand shot up quickly. "I'm here, Captain!" Naomi's excited voice floated up to the stage as she wove her way through the crowd.

"I need you to deliver this PADD to Commander Chakotay, ask him to review these sensor readings, and then meet me in Astrometrics in one hour. Understood?"

"Aye, Captain."

Kathryn watched Chakotay's eyes dance with affection as the young girl bounced up on stage, smiling brightly.

"Commander Chakotay asked me to bring you these reports so you can review them. And he also asked me to tell you," she paused to recall the message and then continued with a satisfied nod. "He checked the inventory in Cargo Bay 5. He said that he found something you might be interested in, and he wondered if oh-1900 is a good time?"

Kathryn grinned.

"I think he wants to show you what he found. Maybe it’s classified because he wouldn't tell me what it is."

Slowly, they worked together, Naomi holding the small, black, ornamental boxes that contained promotional pips while Kathryn and Admiral Paris officiated the changes in rank. Moving down the line, she greeted each person, the sentiment of the night filling her with equal measures of pride and emotion. Harry Kim, Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, Tuvok. And finally, him. The anticipation of this moment hung in the air, and when their eyes met again, a placid, irenic look passed between them. Naomi shifted at Kathryn's side, "Hi, Commander!" she whispered, breaking the spell, forcing him to look down and bestow a dimpled grin upon her.

Admiral Paris began to speak, regaling the room with the Starfleet-approved details from Chakotay's past, his acts of valour, the depth of his commitment to his crew, and most importantly, the Prime Directive. And she thought, for a moment, there was a hint of a laugh in his expression.

Not a day had gone by since they last saw each other, that she didn't miss him. Her soul had been suffering in the most brutal way possible, but perhaps it was necessary. To feel completely unhinged, to sort out her misplaced guilt and grief and to understand that his place in her life held more meaning and was more important than she ever realized, and now, she needed to reclaim some semblance of that connection, on whatever level they could manage. With a breath, she stepped toward him, slipping her cold fingers beneath the collar of his shirt, the skin above his pulse blazing beneath her touch.

There was so much she wanted to say—forgive me, stay with me, I love you—but vulnerability was forever a losing battle. She felt his eyes burning into her as she accepted one pip at a time from Naomi. And like last time, Kathryn felt his skin ripple with goosebumps beneath her fingers, the sensation strangely familiar. Her eyes flickered, and she met his gaze and wondered if he was still as adept at reading her thoughts.

And the deed was done.

With his Captain's pips secured to the collar of his dress uniform, Kathryn slowly pulled her hand free, sliding it from his shoulder to cover his heart. "Congratulations, Chakotay," she whispered to him sincerely.

Chakotay leaned forward, and her eyes snapped to his shoulder; instinctively, she bowed her head, bringing her ear closer, the fluidity of this motion well practiced and accentuated by his hand, coming up to rest on her elbow, holding her still and pulling her in. "I'll find you later," he spoke gently over the applause that erupted behind her in a tone low enough that only she would hear. "I'd like to talk."

Nodding, she patted his chest—an old habit that had survived their return to Earth. Whatever he had to say, she wanted to hear it. Whatever came next was a chance to make amends and free herself from protocol and parameters. Pulling away from one another, she could still feel his hand on her arm, their connection as tangible as ever. Anticipation raced up her spine as she began clapping along with the crowd.