Chapter Text
PART 1: THE HINGES OF DESTINY
“We make choices every day,
some of them good, some of them bad.
And if we are strong enough,
we live with the consequences.” ~ David Gemmell
Chakotay let out a long exhale as he all but dragged his feet to his quarters. No matter how roughly or how often he rubbed his fingers over his eyes, the sting of tiredness behind his eyelids remained.
The whirlwind of events that had finally led them back to the Alpha Quadrant – a future version of Kathryn helping them out, destroying the Borg hub, their risky escape through the conduit – was finally catching up to him. It had all happened so fast that Chakotay was still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that they had made it at last. Voyager and her crew were on their way to Earth now, but it would be a few days before they reached the solar system.
The first few hours of their return had been all about celebrating. Impromptu parties had erupted all over the ship, with no regards for whether it was supposed to be night or day time. However it didn’t take very long before duty – in the form of Starfleet communiqués and requests for briefings and updates – called the crew back to order. Now most of them were caught up in the frenzy of preparing the ship for the return to Earth: running diagnostics, inventorying cargo, and for the senior officers, briefing Starfleet on tactical developments, security measures, engineering updates, proficiency reports… The list went on. As the captain, Kathryn seemed to bear the brunt of the to-do list. Though she had made a couple of appearances at the celebrations, she had spent most of her first couple of days in the Alpha Quadrant locked up in her office, busy writing up crew evaluations, assessing all the reports coming in from the department heads, and most of all, briefing Starfleet top brass about her seven-year command. Facing her peer’s judgment of every decision she had ever made, she had told him wearily earlier. Chakotay could only imagine what that must be like, so he tried to lighten her burden as much as he could, taking as much off her plate as she allowed him to.
For Chakotay, it hadn’t taken very long for the initial excitement to wear off. Now that the adrenaline and endorphin rushes were over, he found himself increasingly concerned about the future. His future. He still hadn’t heard anything concerning what Starfleet planned to do with him and the rest of the Voyager Maquis, and that worried him. He knew the captain was fiercely advocating on their behalf, and they had built a dossier together a few months before, when Admiral Hayes had asked her about the Maquis. But apparently the powers that be at Starfleet Command were still debating, and neither he nor Kathryn had heard anything official yet. Chakotay had done his best to push his anxiety and dread aside since their return, but… it loomed over him so big that it was nearly impossible not to think about. His own Damocles’ sword, hanging over his head.
And it wasn’t the only thing weighing on his mind either. Despite Chakotay’s best attempts at reassuring her, Seven had grown distant over the last several days. Part of it was probably because of how busy they both were at the moment; Seven had been caught up in Starfleet protocols just as badly as everyone else. She had been dividing her time between the Astrometrics lab, where she briefed Starfleet Command about her charts and discoveries, and Engineering, where she lent B’Elanna a hand with all of the diagnostics and briefings while B’Elanna took some time with her newborn daughter. All of these were valid reasons for not spending time together, but Chakotay’s instincts told him that there was more to her distant behavior: she was allowing them to drift apart on purpose. The worst part of it was, he didn’t seem to mind as much as he probably should. And he couldn’t tell whether that sentiment – or lack thereof – was only his anxiety about the whole Maquis situation speaking, or something else.
Not even bothering to turn on lights as he stepped inside his quarters, Chakotay made his way to the replicator for some tea, thoughts still in turmoil and his mood darker than it should be, considering what they had achieved over the last few days.
Just as he was coming back around to the lounge area, his computer beeped with an incoming video transmission. Curious as to whom might be contacting him at this time, he sat down at his desk with a sigh. He turned on the live feed and his frown deepened when he realized the transmission was encrypted. Suddenly a strange sense of foreboding clenched his stomach.
A handsome middle-aged woman wearing a Starfleet uniform and vice admiral pips on her collar greeted him on the screen. “Commander Chakotay.” Chakotay had never met her before so his curiosity instantly turned to dread, twisting his insides painfully. This could only be about the Maquis situation.
Chakotay nodded cautiously in greeting. “That’s right. How can I help you, Admiral…?”
“Mendez. Admiral Eva Mendez, Starfleet Intelligence. I apologize for the unexpected call, Commander. Please, let me be among the first to congratulate you on your miraculous return to the Alpha Quadrant! I haven’t read all the reports yet, but the story has been spreading like wild fire through the Starfleet grapevine.”
Starfleet Intelligence? His day had suddenly gotten decidedly strange. He nodded in acknowledgement of her small talk and congratulations, but his unease grew with each passing second. “Thank you.” He left his words open, making sure that she could hear the question and mild confusion in his tone.
She nodded. “I see you’re wondering why I am contacting you at this time. Straight to the point; I can do that.” She tugged down on her uniform as she straightened. She appeared to be sitting on a black couch aboard a starship, but Chakotay couldn’t tell anything else beyond that. “We are aware of your… situation, Commander. As a former Maquis, you must be aware how much you are risking by returning to the Alpha Quadrant, aboard a Starfleet ship no less. Starfleet Command is still trying to determine what to do with you and the other Maquis aboard Voyager.”
“I know all of that,” Chakotay nodded slowly. “Right now I’m more curious to know what this has to do with Starfleet Intelligence.”
She leaned her elbows on her thighs to clasp her hands together, bringing her face closer to the screen. “Nothing. Except that I might be in a position to help you, if you’ll hear me out.”
Help from Starfleet Intelligence? That couldn’t be good. Chakotay couldn’t stop a humorless chuckle from passing his lips as he shook his head. “With all due respect, Admiral, whatever it is – I think I’d rather take my chances with the Judge Advocate General.”
“Of course, I understand your reluctance, Commander, but I don’t think you realize how much trouble you’re in. Your captain is doing her best for you, but as I’m sure you are aware, a treason charge has no statute of limitation. Best case scenario: you get pardoned and you can go on with your life. Worst case scenario… You face the risk of exile to a penile colony, imprisonment, or worse. And unfortunately, from what I hear it’s only a matter of time before Captain Janeway receives orders to turn you all in. Of course you have every reason to doubt me, Commander. Ask Captain Janeway yourself – she’ll tell you the negotiations with the Judge Advocate General’s office on your behalf are not going well. One of the perks of someone in my position is that I am well informed.” She gave a lopsided smile. “Another one is an ability to help your case with Starfleet Command.”
“Why? Why are you offering to help me?”
“I wish I could say I’m doing it out of the goodness of my heart, but unfortunately, the fact is, I would require your assistance in exchange.”
Chakotay was tempted to terminate the communication there and then, but a little voice in his mind urged him to keep listening. Despite his skepticism and disdain for the admiral’s back-handed approach, she had managed to rouse his deeply-rooted fear by dangling his future in front of him. Because he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t looking good for him, despite Kathryn’s efforts. He’d seen it in the captain’s face every time she had talked to him recently – the strain in her expression. So maybe he should at least listen to what this admiral had to say. If anything, it would make an interesting story to tell Kathryn later. “Fine, let’s hear it,” Chakotay conceded tiredly, rubbing at his eyes again before dropping his hand. “What would I need to do?”
She gave a satisfied nod. “It’s rather simple, really: we have an undercover mission under way that requires a man of your skills and experience. We believe you to be an ideal candidate for it, given your unique training and background. If you accept to complete this mission for us, we will work with Starfleet Command to have them drop any outstanding charges against you.”
Chakotay gave a wry smile. “Just like that.”
“Well,” she smiled indulgently, “it will take some doing. And I should point out that the mission is not expected to be a walk in the park. But we believe a man of your caliber and experience should have no problem completing it safely. In the meantime, I will use all of my influence to appeal to Starfleet Command on your behalf. Between Captain Janeway, myself, and your reputation, I believe we will be able to turn the tides in your favor.”
Chakotay studied her for a moment. “What’s the mission?” He had to admit, he was more curious than he cared to show.
Admiral Mendez inhaled, then leaned forward again, her expression turning into a frown of mild concern. “Over the last several weeks, vessels from the Federation, Ferengi, Bajoran and many others have been the victims of sabotage and theft near the Cardassian border. The Dominion War has left a lot of people desperate in that area, and we believe this is the work of a new but professional criminal ring that is taking advantage of the political vacuum. They seem to be targeting mostly starship weapons systems and power sources, and so far there have been very few casualties. While incidents such as these do not usually fall under Starfleet’s jurisdiction, we fear they may jeopardize the balance in the region, as various factions would like nothing more than blame each other for the thefts. We hope to find out enough about the perpetrators to nip this in the bud before it gets out of proportion. But there is also Starfleet security issues to consider. These criminal crews are somehow able to board Federation starships, steal valuable technology and information, without anyone noticing. So here’s where you’d come in, Commander: we need someone to infiltrate one of those thieving crews and gather intel on our behalf. And if the opportunity presents itself, identify the ring leaders and report their identity to us, or their location.”
“An infiltration mission on the Cardassian border,” Chakotay repeated the admiral’s words slowly, still slightly incredulous that this was what his life now came down to. “I don’t understand. Let me ask you again: why me? Aside from the fact that my freedom makes for a pretty good leverage to get me to accept? I’m sure Starfleet Intelligence has a whole line-up of operatives much better qualified.” Or maybe they needed someone expandable to do their dirty work for them….
“We’ve read your file; your past as both Starfleet and a Maquis, your familiarity with the Cardassian border and the Badlands… In addition, Captain Janeway has been speaking very highly of you in her recent reports, praising such qualities as your moral character, your ability to make people trust you, your drive to do the right thing, and your leadership skills. All of that makes you an ideal candidate for this mission.”
Chakotay smiled wryly. It was as plain as the nose on his face all of the various strategies Admiral Mendez was using to get him to accept – threat, praise, any time now she’d call on his sense of duty – but she was calling the big guns by drawing Kathryn into this. He shook his head. She must have misinterpreted his gesture because she went on.
“Rest assured that we are not asking lightly. We understand the risks involved. Which is why you would have the full support of my division, and we would of course have an exit plan for you, should problems arise or the mission become too dangerous to pursue. What we require in exchange is utmost secrecy; because this is an infiltration mission, you would not be allowed to share any of it with anyone. And of course it would require you to leave Voyager. At least, temporarily. We can provide you with a cover story, should you need one.”
Leave Voyager without telling the truth to anyone? Without explaining his reasons to Seven? To Kathryn? The thought was almost laughable, but… A part of him was tempted. So tempted. He hated himself for it, but he was so bone tired of the dread, the fear of retribution, the not knowing. This whole thing that loomed over him made him resent the fact that they’d made it home, and he hated that. He hated that he couldn’t rejoice with the captain and the rest of the crew. So the simple hope of living the rest of his life as a free man, in the way he had grown used to on Voyager, was beguiling.
But even more enticing was the simple urge to be doing something, to take his future into his own hands, even if it meant going undercover and putting himself in a risky situation – right now that sounded better than the helplessness he felt knowing that he had no say whatsoever in his fate. True, he wasn’t particularly keen to leave Voyager, yet, given the alternative… And then there was that standstill he’d seemed to have come at with Seven. Maybe some time apart would do them some good.
They said that choices are the hinges of destiny – well Chakotay was definitely facing that swiveling door right now. And he didn’t have a clue what to do.
Admiral Mendez saw his hesitation and leaned back in her chair. “Think on it, Commander. We are willing to give you a day to make your final decision. We only ask that you do not discuss this with anyone until then, least of all Captain Janeway. Secrecy is essential. Lives are at stake, both civilians and Starfleet. Should you want to get in touch with me, I am sharing an encryption algorithm for you to use. I hope to hear from you soon, Commander.”
The transmission ended with a blink, turning his monitor to black. Chakotay sat there for a long time, staring at the blank screen.
It was only after several minutes of mulling over the same arguments over and over in his head that the admiral’s words about how much they wanted him truly registered. At first he had taken it as flattery to better manipulate him into accepting, but now… He couldn’t imagine that any division of Starfleet would ask for his help unless they really were desperate. So perhaps the fact that Mendez truly seemed to want him personally gave him some leverage in the negotiation. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Admiral Mendez had mentioned only his charges, but perhaps Chakotay could use whatever power he had to ask that the other Maquis be freed from their impending charges as well. If they needed him as badly as the admiral had claimed, he might as well use it to his advantage.
And if doing this could help his friends and shipmates – rather than merely saving his own skin – he considered it his duty to give it some serious thought. Not for his sake, but for B’Elanna, Ayala, Chell, and so many others – all of those who had put their faith in him from the beginning. If there was a way for him to save them from the Federation’s retribution, he had to try. He couldn’t let them down now, not after coming all this way.
But the first thing he needed to do – before he could even consider considering it – was check the source and find out as much as he could about the situation on the Cardassian border. He activated the computer again and started researching Starfleet’s database for any information on Admiral Mendez, or reports about the thefts. If he could confirm at least parts of her story, it might lend a little bit more legitimacy to the whole thing. He doubted he’d be able to find any information that she didn’t want him to find, but it would be a start.
And then he could make a more informed decision.
~~o~~
Chakotay startled when the chime to his quarters rang.
He straightened to look at the time and winced – both from the lateness and from the stiffness in his neck and back from sitting motionless for so long. He’d made some progress though. Mendez, it seemed, had spoken the truth about the situation at the Cardassian border and he was inclined to agree that something had to be done about it. He wasn’t sure whether he should be the one to undertake that task, but the idea – the possibility – was slowly starting to take hold in his mind. That is, if he could get over some of the major, obvious, caveats that still tugged at his conscience – like the fact that he would be leaving Voyager without being able to tell the truth to anyone. To the captain and Seven. To B’Elanna and Tom and Harry.
“Come in,” he called as he hurriedly gathered his notes and put the PADDs away in his desk drawer.
The door opened. Expecting it might be Seven, he did a double take when he looked up and found Kathryn hovering by the threshold, her silhouette backlit with the light coming from the corridor. He hedged around his desk to meet her, frowning curiously, unsure whether her presence meant that he should be on high alert. “Captain, something wrong?”
Her lips curved into a smile – it was a tired but good-humored smile – as she raised her hands from behind her back, revealing a bottle of wine. She raised a challenging eyebrow. “Only if you tell me you don’t need a drink as much as I do!”
He hesitated for a second – he still had research to do and it felt strange to share drinks with her in his quarters given his relationship with Seven, never mind how platonic this would be. But then it occurred to him with a painful pang that this might be the last chance he would get to enjoy Kathryn’s company for a long time, regardless of his decision. If he accepted the offer, he would have to leave; if he refused, he might end up in jail. This line of thought, along with the captain’s hopeful expression, made up his mind.
He returned her smile and moved aside to let her in. “You’re in luck, Captain. A drink sounds really good to me too, right now,” he said as he rubbed his hands over his face, as if it would help dissipate the accumulated exhaustion and anxiety of the last few days.
“Oh? Anything I should know about?” She asked curiously as she made her way to the lounge area while Chakotay went to get two glasses and a bottle opener. She took a seat on the couch, and when Chakotay gave her the opener, she uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass.
Chakotay let out a long sigh as he took the seat next to hers and leaned back into the corner of the couch so he could rest his arm along the back. “Maybe later.”
She handed him his glass and their eyes met briefly as they clinked, then took a sip. “You’re right, let’s not talk shop for a while. We’ve made it back at last, we deserve a break!” She declared as she relaxed into the couch as well, crossing her legs. They drank in silence for a moment, until she spoke again. “I can’t help but notice that you haven’t started packing yet.”
Chakotay followed her gaze around the room. “It’s been so busy, I haven’t had a chance yet. You?”
As she related the funny story of how her packing plans had kept getting interrupted over the last couple of days, they easily fell into their typical, companionable, end-of-day conversation rhythm. She seemed more than happy to provide most of the conversation tonight, which suited Chakotay just fine. He was content to just listen, and enjoy her company. It had been a while since they’d talked like this, and he realized now that he had missed those moments. He had missed her. More than he probably should.
It didn’t take very long for them to finish the bottle she’d brought, so they moved on to a second. By then the alcohol in Chakotay’s veins was making him mellow, almost to the point of being able to relegate any thoughts of leaving and undercover missions and indictments all the way to the back of his mind. At some point he slouched down a bit so he could prop his feet up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. Meanwhile Kathryn moved to sit sideways on the couch to better face him, her legs curled under her, her elbow propped up against the back of the couch and leaning her temple against her knuckles. While the wine made him feel comfortably drowsy, Kathryn, on the other hand, only became more animated with each sip. Chakotay often found himself smiling at her vivacity, at the way her skin flushed and her eyes sparkled with wit and humor as she spoke. He’d always loved that gleam of passion in her eyes when she spoke about things she felt strongly about. That was one of the many things he’d learned during their quarantine time together, a lifetime ago, it seemed.
They were about halfway through that second bottle when Chakotay remembered that he needed to ask her about how her talks with the Judge Advocate General were going. To see whether Admiral Mendez had spoken the truth about that too. This unwelcome reminder of what would likely come next in his life completely shattered the sense of calm he had found over the course of the evening. But he needed to know. So he waited for a break in the conversation, and when the opportunity arose, he inhaled sharply, his gaze directed at his glass, and asked her, bluntly, how it was going.
Kathryn’s face fell at the shift in the conversation. She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and shining, before suddenly redirecting her gaze down to her glass. Her voice was raw when she spoke. “I wish I could have good news to share with you, Chakotay. But the truth is, I still can’t tell. And my instincts tell me that it’s not a good sign that it’s taking so long for Starfleet Command to decide.”
This confirmed what Mendez had told him. He felt the walls of the room close up on him a little bit more. And suddenly the fork in the road seemed to narrow down to only one possible path: he would have to accept Mendez’s offer. Part of him balked at the idea that he would essentially be skirting around the consequences of his past actions rather than facing them as he should, if he were truly honorable. But he couldn’t just roll over either, especially since there was more at stake than his own life. Besides, it was only one mission, it wasn’t that bad of a bargain, was it? And it would only be temporary. Once he was done with it, he would be able to return to his life. As a free man. As a man liberated from a past that he had dragged behind him for too long, like a ball and chain. It wasn’t that bad of a deal, all things considered.
He almost convinced himself.
Chakotay let out a long sigh into his glass before taking a sip. “I know. That’s what my instincts tell me too.”
Oblivious to his thoughts, Kathryn shook her head apologetically. “I didn’t want to bring it up with you before I actually heard anything.” She paused, but when she spoke again there was a bit more pep in her voice, as if she was trying to convince herself of the silver linings. “But you know,” the back of her hand swatted his shoulder, “it’s not over until it’s over, as they say, and I won’t give up, Chakotay. I can tell you that with certainty, at least.”
Chakotay smiled gratefully, though it probably came out strained. “I know. And you know I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But I’m glad you told me. It’s good that I know what to expect. This way I can start thinking about a back-up plan.”
She blinked in surprise, angling her head to better peer at him. “What back-up plan?”
Realizing his slip, Chakotay shook his head and reverted his voice to his earlier bantering tones. “I don’t know yet! But I suppose I should start thinking about one,” he said as he lifted his glass to his lips.
She reached out to touch his knee, a gesture meant to show her support. Chakotay had learned a long time ago not to read anything into these kinds of touches; Kathryn had always been a tactile person, she often touched the people she cared about. True, she seemed to do it a little bit more than usual tonight – touching his hand, patting his arm, teasingly slapping his shoulder – but he attributed it to the fact that she’d consumed her fair share of wine within a relatively short amount of time. But in spite of his best rationalization, it didn’t change the fact that her hand felt searing hot through the fabric of his uniform.
Doing his best to ignore the sensation, Chakotay merely gave her another tired, grateful smile. She patted his knee twice before she pulled her hand back. He watched as she busied herself with refilling both their glasses.
Their eyes met again when they clinked their glasses once more. Her gaze remained on his face as they drank this time, though. At first Chakotay looked away, but feeling her gaze linger steadily on him, he met her eyes again. Something in her expression was suddenly more open, more intense, more…and he didn’t dare – didn’t want to – look away this time, as if he’d miss something crucial if he did. He couldn’t stop his gaze from watching, roaming, taking in, as if studying her familiar features for a second longer would allow him to decipher a long-lost mystery. Or allow him entry into her soul. And all the while, his captain seemed to be doing the same with him, her rapt gaze wandering over his face, searching his eyes.
Suddenly he was aware of how close they were sitting together, with her knee touching his thigh, her elbow resting against the back of the couch not too far from his shoulder, her fingertips tangled in her hair, her lips red from the wine.
When she spoke, her eyes still steadily watching him, breaking the suddenly palpable silence between them, her voice was low-pitched and rich. It sent an involuntary thrill through him. “You know Chakotay, if I were bolder and less afraid of the consequences,” she started quietly, just above a whisper, “I’d use the drunken excuse to tell you that… that it scares me to imagine you taken away from me. You have no idea how much. I’d not only lose my first officer and closest friend, but my anchor. My moral compass.” Her voice cracked but she pushed on. “I can’t – I don’t want to – imagine what my life would be like without you. I know I’ve told you this before, but I’ve never meant it as much as I do now.”
With his heart suddenly thundering against his ribcage and a lump lodged in his throat, Chakotay opened his mouth to respond, but every reply that crossed his mind seemed inappropriate or wrong or just not enough. He wanted to tell her that he felt the same. He wanted to tell her how much it meant to him to hear her say that. But how much could he reveal when he was currently in a relationship with another woman – no matter how frosty at the moment? How much could he tell her about how long he’d dreamt of hearing her say something like this, when he’d all but made up his mind to leave in the near future, and for reasons he wasn’t allowed to tell her about? How much could he say without betraying himself? And how much could he not say without being cruel? He mentally cursed at her timing. If she’d opened up to him only a few months earlier…
Finding his mouth dry, he swallowed, then licked his lips. “Kathryn, I-”
There was blur of movement in the corner of his eyes, and suddenly her mouth was pressing against his, her warm hand coming up to curl around his neck, scorching. Marking. Chakotay was so surprised (and inebriated) that it took him a full second to realize what was happening. That Kathryn Janeway, his Kathryn, was kissing him. He had all but given up on the hope that she… And then it took him another second to remind himself that he should definitely not be sighing in pleasure against her lips, or desperately wanting more, or enjoying the taste of wine on her lips, or breathe her in, or let his heart soar with such unadulterated joy. Her lips pulled back, but her forehead and cheek nestled against his for another long, poignant second as they shared a breath. That contact – both affectionate and passionate – was almost more revealing about her feelings for him than the kiss itself. It nearly shattered his heart with the tenderness of it.
So all in all, it took about three seconds before his reason kicked in and he remembered why there were warning bells sounding in his conscience. So he pulled away. Slowly. Gently. All the while his heart and his body screamed at him to silence his brain and return her kiss and pull her to him instead. “Kathryn,” he managed to croak before he licked his lips, tasting her, his forehead still against hers, raising a hand to gently push against her shoulder while he leaned back a little bit more. “I can’t-”
He saw it the second it dawned on her that he was pushing her away. It nearly shattered his heart to pieces to see that hurt and mortification cross over her face. She leaned back sharply and swallowed, closing her eyes as if it would help her find her composure. “It’s true then…” she whispered, her voice raw and unsteady. “You and Seven…I didn’t dare to believe…” She retreated completely from his personal space and turned her head away from him. Her hand shook when she stretched her arm to set her wine glass down onto the coffee table.
“Well yes, but that’s-”
She shook her head, raising her hand to stop him. She jumped to her feet and all but bolted for the door. When she reached it she paused. “There’s no need to explain, Commander. I should be the one to apologize – I forgot myself. Needless to say it won’t happen again.” She plastered a smile to her face, but it looked so fake it almost broke Chakotay’s heart to see it.
Chakotay jumped to his feet to follow after her, to stop her, to explain, his heart bursting for her to understand his whirlpool of conflicting emotions, but his head spun from the wine and he almost tripped on the edge of the coffee table. “Kathryn, wait – we can talk about this.”
Her eyes seemed to shutter as she shook her head again and she opened the door. “I assure you there’s no need, Commander. Good night.”
Chakotay almost followed her out into the corridor, but there were too many potential witnesses around – even as this time of the night – for the type of conversation they were likely to have at this point. In the end he could only watch her retreating back – the squared shoulders, the chin held high, her hands clamped into tight fists at her side, the head shaking from side to side as if mentally reprimanding herself.
All the while Chakotay’s lips burned where she had touched them with hers.
He kicked himself for not seeing this coming. But how could he have? It wasn’t that long ago that she had moved in with a man she barely knew, or that she’d enjoyed a relationship with a holodeck character. And she had given him absolutely no sign that she’d had a change of heart about her damn parameters, or her feelings. True they were back in the Alpha Quadrant, and while that did change some things, as far as he knew her self-imposed rules still applied, regardless of where they were in the galaxy. So what had changed? Why hadn’t she said anything before now? Because if he had known…
A part of him wanted to be mad at her, for expecting him to just pine for her, to be at her beck and call, when she had spent years holding the line, making it clear that nothing could happen between them. But he couldn’t find it in him to be angry, not when all he could see in his mind’s eye was the distress and shame in her eyes as she’d retreated.
When he stepped back into his quarters and the door slid behind him, he reined in the sudden urge to hit the wall to let out his frustration and instead rubbed his hand over his face. How had his life become so messy and complicated? Just a few days ago he’d known exactly where he stood and he’d been happy. Content. But now…
Still standing in the middle of the room in frustration, his eyes wandered back to the computer monitor. He had made his decision earlier, about accepting Mendez’s offer, so that’s what he should focus on, he reminded himself sternly. He had to think of the Maquis, his friends and crewmates. He wouldn’t be gone forever, and once the mission was over, he’d be able to fix this, all of it, but for now… He had to focus on making sure that his comrades got the freedom and recognition that they deserved. Then, and only then, would he feel like he had the right to think of himself.
With newfound determination – tinged with self-directed anger and frustration – he stepped to his desk, sat down, and composed an encrypted message for Admiral Mendez.
I look forward to traveling and meeting new friends, the message read.
I only have one condition: that my old comrades be allowed to find the same liberty as I will be getting from the experience.
If you agree, then I’m ready to meet whenever you are to discuss travel plans.
He clicked “send.”
oooOooo