Be Careful What You Wish For

by Barbara Watson

  B’Elanna could smell a Talaxian therapy session coming on—almost as clearly as she could smell Neelix’s ‘special occasion’ musk cologne. “That’s what they tell me,” she said softly. “But I haven’t been here since I was a little girl. I never really memorized the look of the constellations.” Boy, she did not want to be having this conversation.

  Luckily, her friend had grown very skilled in teaching B’Elanna lessons without beating her over the head, so she reluctantly decided to let him take her down this difficult path. She almost always felt better in the end. She hoped that would be true today, too. And maybe Neelix could help her figure out her blue mood. Characteristically, he often knew what was bothering her even when she didn’t.

  “Did you try to contact her?” he asked. “You told me once you thought she’d be on the Klingon homeworld.” He didn’t say ‘if she’s still alive,’ but B’Elanna knew that was the proper end of this sentence. During the entire year of regular contact with Starfleet, B’Elanna had made only a half-hearted attempt to find her mother. Not from a lack of interest; after her near-death experience several years earlier, she’d always wondered if her visions of her mother on the Barge of the Dead were real or the workings of her imagination. The answer made all the difference, for—if she did experience some kind of supernatural glimpse into the Klingon afterlife—her mother might actually be dead.

  B’Elanna wanted to believe that her mother would be waiting for her when she got back. After finally making peace with Miral on the Barge, she couldn’t face the chance of finding out they’d never get the chance to reconcile in person. As long as she was stuck in the Delta Quadrant, she needed to keep that possibility alive. Complicating her decision was the knowledge that—having lost regular contact with any of her Klingon extended family many years earlier—the best way to track down her mother would have been through her father. And there was no way she was opening that old wound. At least not back then.

  Neelix’s question was understandable, though. Here she had been, traveling through Klingon space for days. A quick call to the Federation ambassador on Qo’noS could probably have told her what she needed to know. Yet, with all the losses she had just been forced to face, B’Elanna wasn’t sure she could take any more bad news.

  She turned away from the window and looked at the kind and gentle man trying—as always—to help her do the right thing. “I sent a letter to the colony on Kessick 4 in the final datastream. If she’s alive, someone there should know how to reach her.” B’Elanna knew that didn’t explain her reluctance to make a simple inquiry now that they were so close by. “Neelix, do you remember when Samantha, Tom, and Tuvok were missing in the Delta Flyer and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Naomi that they were lost?” His expression told her instantly that he did. “You didn’t want Naomi to have to face the possibility that her mother was dead—just like you’d had to face the loss of your family. You wanted to spare her that pain if you could.” She turned back to the stars. “Well, at least for now, I need to be able to believe that my mother is alright. I’ll find out soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

  She braced herself for the gentle logic she knew she would hear next. “B’Elanna, I was wrong about Naomi. It’s never a good idea to avoid the truth. Besides, if your mother is alive, think of the opportunity you might be missing. To introduce her to Tom and her granddaughter. To let her see what a wonderful person her daughter has become. I’m sure Admiral Paris would be willing to help you contact her.”

  She appreciated what he was trying to do for her, but she needed him to understand. “I’m not ready,” she said to her friend. “Soon, but not yet.” She put her hand on the Talaxian’s arm. “But I’m glad that—when I am ready—you’ll be here to help me though it. Either way.”

  B’Elanna took a moment to reflect on all the ways in which Voyager’s morale officer had boosted her own spirits over the years. He’d made her Blood Pie on the Day of Honor, and banana pancakes when she was trying to lift herself out of her deep depression. She knew he’d snuck Tom extra replicator rations when they were celebrating an anniversary, and—most importantly—he had helped her get the courage to talk through her doubts about her relationship with Tom when her insecurities told her she and her then-boyfriend were a bad match. If it weren’t for Neelix, she might not be standing in this room now, watching her husband quietly obsess over their baby daughter. She knew how much she owed this man and she was grateful. “You know, my mother would really like you. You’re an honorable man, Neelix.” He smiled. He was a good friend, and he knew B’Elanna well enough to know when to stop pushing.

  She also knew that their crossing into the Alpha Quadrant would be bittersweet for him as well. “Neelix, we’ve spent the past seven years traveling 70,000 light years to get home. And when we get there, you’ll be 70,000 light years from yours. Are you ever sorry you decided to come with us?” It was his turn, she noticed to take a long look at the stars.

  “I miss being around other Talaxians sometimes. I miss some of the friends I made back there. And,” he almost hesitated to continue. “Sometimes I do wonder what would have happened if Kes and I had taken my ship and gone on our way after the captain helped me rescue her from the Kazon. If she might not have had a happier life in the end.” She could see the pain of ‘what might have been’ playing across his face. But she saw something else, too. When he turned back to face her, she saw a man at peace with his decision.

  “But I’m not sorry I joined this crew, B’Elanna. Ever since the war, I thought I’d never have a family again. My family was the most important thing in my life, and when they were killed, a part of me died, too.” He looked into her eyes before continuing. “But I have a new family now. And a new home. My life is better than I ever could have imagined the day I first met all of you. So, no. I’m glad to be here. I’m glad I can share this moment with all of you.”

  B’Elanna wondered if anyone else ever saw this quiet, introspective side of Neelix. She took a moment to wonder what all of their lives would have been like without him. She was grateful she’d never have to find out.

  Tom was watching the Doctor snatch his daughter out of the arms of Sue Nicoletti when he saw Chakotay arrive. The first officer looked agitated—a rare state for a man with so much inner calm. Paris intercepted him on his way past. “You look like you’re having a bad day,” Tom said. “What’s wrong?”

  His concentration broken, Chakotay considered if he wanted to answer the pilot’s question. He had come to like and respect Tom over the years—an amazing admission considering the contempt he’d felt for the man both in their months together in the Maquis and the intervening years before Paris had reappeared in his life on Voyager. But camaraderie still didn’t come easily between the men. The commander had to admit, though, he could use someone to talk to right about now, and Kathryn and B’Elanna would be too personally affected by the news he had just received. Taking a chance, he motioned for Tom to move with him to a quiet spot away from the festivities.

  “I just got some bad news,” he said, referring to the PADD in his hand. “A posting I was hoping for didn’t come through.”

  Tom knew from B’Elanna that Chakotay would probably be leaving Voyager after they reached Earth. She didn’t go into details—his wife kept her friends’ confidences—but Tom had pulled that much out of her the night of their party in holographic San Francisco. Tom assumed it had something to do with the change in Chakotay’s relationship with the captain, but he was still unsure how the commander could possibly be hearing about a new posting before they even knew if they’d be allowed to stay in Starfleet. He decided Chakotay would tell him whatever he was comfortable sharing.

  “I guess I should get used to it,” the first officer continued. Tom didn’t understand. “Get used to what?” he asked.

  “To being a Maquis again,” was Chakotay’s surprising answer. “That’s why this project fell through. I heard through a friend that the brother of the program’s director
had been injured during a Maquis raid on a Federation scout ship. I wasn’t even involved, but there were just too many...complications. Of course, that’s not the official reason they gave. They mentioned my ‘uncertain status,’ but it’s the same thing.”

  “Yeah,” Tom said. “Apparently, you and I were conspiring to hijack Voyager, too.”

  Chakotay realized now that Paris knew about the rumors. “How did you find out?” he asked.

  “The captain and my dad broke the news this afternoon. It’s funny, Chakotay, but I seemed to have missed the meeting where we planned it all. Very clever of you to trick the captain into springing me from jail. And pretending to hate my guts added an extra element of realism, don’t you think?”

  Tom was being sarcastic, but Chakotay could tell he wasn’t really bothered by the lies spread about them. “You seem to be taking this remarkably well,” the commander marveled.

  Tom just shrugged, “It’s not like this tarnished my ‘spotless’ reputation. Think about it: before we got sucked across the galaxy, I was just a drunken liar who got caught while playing mercenary. This cooked-up story actually makes me sound like a rebel mastermind fighting for a cause I believed in. At least in the lie I’m smart and noble.”

  Tom had a point. What difference did it make what people reviled him for? Especially when both stories were so far off the mark of the person Tom Paris had become. Chakotay had to admit he’d misjudged the man hiding under all that liquor so many years ago. Standing here, talking to this Tom Paris, he wondered if—under other circumstances—they might have ended up friends fighting together for the Maquis.

  Clearly Tom was wondering the same thing. “Sometimes I wish I’d been with you for the right reasons. If I’d been sober for more than five minutes in those days, I might have believed in the cause just as much as you and B’Elanna.” Tom was turning uncharacteristically serious. “You were only doing what you thought was right to defend your home and a lot of innocent people. The Federation didn’t give you many options, Chakotay. I admire that you had the courage of your convictions.”

  ‘The courage of my convictions,’ Chakotay played back the words in his head, wondering if he still had that same determination to defend what he knew to be right. The anger was gone lately, and with it the passion he had felt for his cause. It was too easy to intellectualize it all in retrospect. And the struggle that had been so black and white in his mind before he ended up on Voyager now seemed full of shades of gray.

  For some reason, Chakotay also had a fleeting memory of seeing the Delta Flyer zooming toward an ocean planet on the verge of an ecological disaster, and watching Paris violate direct orders, risking his life to defend it. He smiled at Tom, as he spoke. “I seem to remember you found your own cause a few years ago—and your own courage. You know, I could have killed you for what you put the captain through that day, but I have to admit that I admired your taking a stand for your beliefs.”

  Tom looked him in they eye. “You didn’t think I had it in me,” he said.

  Chakotay returned the honesty. “No, I didn’t.”

  Tom just smiled. “Well, I paid for that decision, but I don’t regret doing what I thought was right,” he said, remembering his thirty days in Voyager’s brig, and the eighteen months he’d spent busted back to ensign. The remark led Chakotay to consider the consequences of his own choices. He didn’t regret them either, he realized, even if there were repercussions now.

  “Don’t let all this get to you,” Tom continued, bringing their conversation back to Chakotay’s bad news. “You’re more than your past. We all are. People will realize that in time.”

  At that moment, the first officer saw a look of panic cross the pilot’s face, his eyes scanning the room. An instant later, the panic was replaced by a small sigh of relief. Chakotay turned to see what Tom was looking at. He should have known. The tiny face of an infant appeared over the shoulder of Ensign Wildman, who had apparently made the unpardonable error of blocking the lieutenant’s view of his daughter.

  “Paris, you’d better watch it or your reputation as a ‘ladies man’ is going to be ruined for good.”

  Tom laughed. “I’ve just narrowed the field down to two specific ‘ladies,’ Chakotay.” Tom couldn’t help but nod toward the door where Captain Janeway had just appeared. “You might want to give it a try yourself,” he teased.

  As the commander returned Tom’s grin and headed to greet his own favorite ‘lady,’ Paris had to stop and wonder if he and Chakotay were actually becoming...friends. If so, it was only one more miracle to be attributed to the fabled journey of the starship Voyager.

  Kathryn was glad to see her crew having a good time. She was even happier to see the dark haired man walking toward her from the other side of the mess hall. It was funny, she thought. She had spent virtually every day of the last seven years working with, talking to, and enjoying the company of her first officer, but she had never allowed herself to acknowledge anything but a deep affection and respect for the man. Until recently. These days, just seeing Chakotay enter a room gave her a twinge of anticipation. She laughed at how this most comfortable of relationships was making her anxious—in very appealing and interesting ways.

  She was feeling more and more at ease with the progression of their relationship—to the point that a part of her wondered why she had held back for so long. Another part of her was even more convinced she had done the right thing: how productive would it have been for the captain to feel like a schoolgirl at the sight of her first officer? No, she wasn’t going to second-guess herself now.

  But she was going to enjoy the feelings she had in this moment. “Hi,” she said as he got closer. “Care to buy a lady a cup of coffee?”

  He smiled. “This is a celebration, Captain. I think the preferred drink is champagne.”

  She allowed herself a moment to think of the day when he’d never call her ‘captain’ again. “Commander,” she answered almost in retaliation for his formality, “if I want to stay awake to the end of the party, I think it’s going to have to be coffee for now.”

  There were very selfish reasons why Chakotay wanted to keep her awake this evening, so he was happy to honor her request. They walked to the replicator and she placed her order. She checked to see if anyone could hear them before she spoke. “Can you keep a secret?” she said to him mischievously.

  He laughed, “For your sake and mine, I hope so.”

  Kathryn smiled, but indicated the replicated cup of hot coffee now in her hand. “I think I’m going to miss Neelix’s ‘special blends.’ But please don’t tell him that.”

  They were in a relatively quiet spot, and she took advantage of the privacy and changed the subject. “You looked like you were in the middle of a pretty intense conversation with Tom Paris when I came in. Is everything alright?”

  Chakotay had already decided he wasn’t going to tell Kathryn his news just yet. “We were just plotting our next secret mission against the Federation,” he said with a mock conspiratorial tone.

  Janeway sighed. “I’m glad he finally knows,” she admitted.

  All of these reminders about consequences had Chakotay thinking now. “Kathryn, tell me honestly, what are you hearing from the Federation about our status?”

  She was hesitant to answer during what was supposed to be a celebration, but she would have told him later that evening anyway. “The situation is a little more complex than I’d been led to believe,” she admitted. “The issue isn’t really about the actions the Maquis took against the Cardassians in defense of the colonies. I’ve been pretty much guaranteed that those charges will be dropped. What’s more difficult are the raids on Federation ships and outposts. If they can prove you or your crew participated in those attacks, the advocate’s office doesn’t think they can let that go unpunished.”

  He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. “Those raids were our only way to get supplies and weapons to keep up the fight. We weren’t thieves—we were desperate peopl
e trying to hold off a ruthless enemy, with no one to help us. I don’t know what else they expected us to do!” His frustration was understandable, but Kathryn was worried that someone would overhear their conversation. She took a subtle step closer to Chakotay, and grabbed his hand in hers. The physical contact brought him back into the moment, and he realized that this wasn’t the time or the place.

  When she was sure he had calmed down, Janeway released his hand and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly.

  “Don’t be,” she said, and meant it. “You’re just passionate about your beliefs. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” He looked at her, then, with a sense of wonder. This woman—this captain—who’d been sent to hunt him down had become his best friend, his confidante and his soul mate. If there were any justice in the universe, she’d soon become his lover—and maybe more. The odds against them couldn’t have been more staggering, yet she loved him and even defended the actions she had been sent to punish him for. Life was strange and good.

  “No matter what happens,” he said when he’d regained his composure, “we’ll get through it. Besides, after seven years in the Delta Quadrant facing the Borg, the Hirogen, Species 8472, the Vidiians...,” he could have gone on for an hour and not finished listing the hostile aliens the two had seen on their journey home, “...I’m not going to let three Starfleet admirals frighten me.” She laughed. Put that way, there was really nothing to be worried about. Their most dangerous battles were definitely behind them.