Be Careful What You Wish For

by Barbara Watson

  Kathryn was smiling, but she walked at a normal pace toward him, toward this part of herself she hadn’t seen in many months. It seemed like forever, but was only moments before he stood before her. She gently reached out and brushed her fingers across his tattooed forehead. “Welcome home,” she said softly. Always a man of few words, Chakotay returned her greeting with a long kiss. He pulled away only long enough to take her into his arms for a bone-crunching hug. As they embraced, his eyes were tightly closed, allowing this one moment to purge him of five months of separation.

  It would be a long time, he realized, before he’d be comfortable letting her out of his sight again.

  When they finally parted, he looked into Kathryn’s eyes for a long moment, just convincing himself that this was real, and that he was free and in the arms of the woman he loved. He inspected every millimeter of her face as he spoke. “I’ve missed you, Kathryn,” he said with almost reverence. “How have you been?” It was her turn to reassure herself that this wasn’t a dream.

  “I’ve had better months,” she said honestly. “But they’ve taken good care of me.” She nodded in the direction of the Paris’s who now stood at a respectful distance enjoying their friends’ reunion. Chakotay realized he had another woman to greet.

  He scooped his best friend into the air as he hugged her. “B’Elanna,” he said as he spun her around. “How’ve you been?”

  She held onto his arms as he put her down. “I’ve been fine. Thanks to you,” she said, acknowledging the sacrifice he had made for her and the others. “Welcome back, Chakotay.”

  Tom reclaimed his wife as the couples started walking toward the door to the corridor. “Captain,” he said, intentionally formally. “As one of my first official acts as your first officer, I’ve decided to stage a mutiny. Consider yourself relieved of command for the next seventy-two hours. That’s an order.”

  Janeway smiled. “Yes, sir,” she said turning his trademark acknowledgement around. “Do I have the commander’s permission to return to my quarters and pack a few things?”

  Tom smiled, but stayed in character. “I’ll give you three hours. Then I’m beaming you off the ship myself.”

  As they reached the corridor, Tom and B’Elanna pulled out of each other’s arms, professional decorum taking over. They were on duty, after all, and years of practice knowing when they should act like mates and when they needed to be seen as officers took over without a conscious thought. They couldn’t help but notice, however, that the captain and the ambassador were still happily entangled, his arm tightly around her shoulder; hers firmly holding onto his waist. After years of having to hide their affections, they could finally just be themselves, and it didn’t matter who saw. One last sign that their lives were finally becoming their own. It was about time.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  It was move-in day on the newly-refurbished starship Voyager, and the ship was a flurry of activity. They had three days to get everyone settled into their new quarters before they’d leave for Cardassian space, and juggling the logistics was getting a little complicated.

  Officers were moved in according to rank, and they were helped out some by the fact that Captain Janeway had been practically living on Voyager during the last two months of the refit. Once her friend and companion Molly had died—peacefully, and at the extraordinary-for-an-Irish Setter old age of fourteen—she discovered she was less and less interested in going back to her sister’s home near the base. She was lonely, and found that working around the clock was the only thing that made her feel better. It was a bad habit she’d developed during her years in the Delta Quadrant, but it was a routine that had comforted her in its familiarity. Now, however, those lonely days and nights were about to come to an end.

  Her civilian partner was almost finished his own move-in, back to familiar quarters at the other end of the Deck 4 corridor. It was common knowledge to Starfleet and the crew that Captain Janeway and Ambassador Chakotay were partners in life as well as this mission, but they had elected to keep dual quarters. The captain’s cabin would serve as their private residence; the ambassador’s would act as his office and mission command center.

  The first officer and chief engineer were happily rearranging the furniture in their new quarters: a family suite with two bedrooms in addition to the living area. Not that the second bedroom would be getting that much use for a while. Neither could stand the thought of leaving their six-month-old daughter in a room so far away. Her crib would stay in their bedroom for the time being.

  The Paris’s would be one of three families making this journey, and the ship’s crew now included a childcare specialist and a Federation teacher. It had taken Tom Paris a while before he was comfortable leaving his daughter in the care of a stranger, even a highly-skilled Vulcan au pair. It remained common for the crew to see him working in his office or wandering the ship, MK snuggly strapped to his chest, a datapad in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. In fact, his was the only office on the ship to have its own playpen and diaper-changing station.

  Voyager’s new science officer was getting used to having quarters at all. Her specially-designed home had its own unique features, including a working kitchen and a Borg alcove—in addition to the standard issue bed. Ensign Hanson was now spending many of her nights sleeping instead of regenerating, but she would need access to the alcove until the Federation’s doctors had found a way to completely remove the rest of her Borg implants. For now, however, she was happy with the compromise that allowed her to at least feel more like a human being.

  Seven’s time on Earth had been one of huge adjustment. While most of her friends were focused on the fate of the Maquis, Seven had been fighting her own battle for acceptance, not just of Federation society, but of herself. She was more afraid than she had anticipated when Voyager first docked, and her debriefing with Starfleet officials was an intimidating exercise. She could tell, just by watching the faces around the table, that some of her examiners were put off by her direct nature. Appearing intimidating to humans had never concerned her before, but these officials had her future in their hands. She tried to be more conscious of her tone from that point on.

  During those days, Captain Janeway and her other friends had tried to offer their support, but she was in much less jeopardy than Commander Chakotay and the others, so she resisted taking too much of their time and attention—with one exception. To no one’s surprise, the Doctor was with her at every critical moment, helping her prepare her responses to questions, or—on several occasions—distracting her with outings: picnics, trips to the opera, even a dinner out with his ‘father,’ Dr. Louis Zimmerman. (Only after meeting the sardonic and morose holoprogrammer who had created her ‘boyfriend’ could Seven truly appreciate exactly how far the Doctor had come in exceeding his original programming.)

  Seven had also received substantial support from another—totally unexpected—source. The day after Voyager arrived home, Captain Janeway had arrived at her door with a distinguished looking human, a Starfleet officer Kathryn introduced as Captain Jean Luc Picard of the starship Enterprise. Seven had recognized him, of course. Picard had been assimilated by the Borg many years earlier, before Seven was separated from the collective. She not only recognized Picard, his knowledge and experiences were a part of her on some level. She wasn’t sure, however, why he was now visiting her.

  She soon realized that his was a man of uncommon courage and compassion. Instead of viewing her as one of the drones responsible for his own pain and suffering, Picard treated Seven as a kindred spirit, a human stolen from her life and forced into a kind of slavery. She had now been set free, as he had, by a caring group of Starfleet officers who were as close to him as family. He was there to help.

  During the week of debriefing, Picard had never left her ‘side,’ metaphorically, since he had deliberately chosen a seat across from Seven, where she could look into his eyes at any point in the conversation to regain her composure and receive a reassuring smile. He
even spoke on her behalf, with an eloquence she had found uncommon in most humans. By the end of her ordeal, she realized that Captain Janeway and her uncommon crew were not anomalies: Starfleet had many other officers of equal character and compassion. It made her adjustment to Federation society much easier.

  After the Federation panel declared her innocent of any actions taken while under Borg control and granted her the full rights of any Federation citizen, Seven took the uncharacteristic step of inviting Captain Picard to join her and the Doctor for an evening out. Accompanied by Enterprise counselor Deanna Troi (with whom the Doctor was already acquainted), the four took in a Shakespearan comedy at the old American Conservatory Theatre, then had a long dinner at Fisherman’s Wharf. It was the first time in her memory that Seven felt like a ‘normal’ woman. It gave her hope for her future.

  A future that now included bare quarters just crying out for some individual touches.

  Her home was on Deck 6, just down the corridor from Voyager’s newest holosuite, the private residence of her beau, the ship’s chief medical officer, Doctor Zimmerman—whose first name was still under consideration. (It had taken him seven years to select a last name, and his friends weren’t holding out any hope for a fast decision now.) Seven and the Doctor were continuing to persue ‘social scenarios,’ and had progressed from an almost adolescent uncomfortableness to a slow exploration of the pleasures of being a man and a woman. In fact, just as he had for her in the past, Seven prepared a comprehensive lesson plan—with a little help from B’Elanna—that she and the Doctor could study together. By the time Voyager headed back into space, they would be up to Lesson 47: Other Uses for Chocolate Sauce. It was all very educational.

  In addition to his new home and new scholarly pursuits, Doctor Zimmerman (who had also easily completed the Academy equivelency test) was assigned the rank of Lieutenant Commander, and granted the full rights and responsibilities of any Starfleet officer.

  The Doctor also benefited from key design changes to Voyager, herself. Using power from its two holodecks and an ingenious design by the ship’s chief engineer, all of Decks 1 though 6 were now equipped with holographic emitters. Not only did this reduce the Doctor’s dependence on his one-and-only mobile emitter, it allowed the rest of the crew certain luxuries they would otherwise have been without on a long starship posting.

  Luxuries like pets. Holographic pets, at least. Not that organic pets were unheard of on a starship, though some species were clearly less practical than others where issues of exercise and hygene were concerned. But perhaps Voyager’s crew, with their own holographic officer, had less trouble seeing a distinction. In any case, not only was Captain Janeway now raising a virtual Irish Setter puppy named Moira, Seven—Ensign Hansen—had decided to share her quarters with a photonic Siamese cat she called Annika. And, while some of her crewmates might have wondered why their science officer had filled her life with holographic lifeforms, her closest friends knew she was making progress in her ‘organic’ relationships as well. In fact, she and B’Elanna Paris were now coauthoring a holonovel together in their off-duty hours, an interactive version of the Klingon pulp romance “Women Warriors at the River of Blood.”

  It had been Tom’s job to recruit and request replacement crewmen for those that Voyager lost, whether in the Delta Quadrant or to new assignments. They were sorry to be losing Joe Carey and Samantha Wildman, for instance, though everyone understood their friends’ desire to spend more time on Earth with their families. Other key positions were open for less pleasant reasons. Tom had long since given up on trying to replace Harry and Tuvok—there was no way to do that. Instead, he looked for new officers, with different kinds of gifts.

  He recommended that the captain promote Ensign Alissa Lang to Lieutenant, and move her to Tactical on a permanent basis. Lang was a Voyager Veteran (as the DQ’s or Delta Quadrant survivors had come to be known), and she had always proven herself handy in a crisis. One of the youngest members of Voyager’s original Starfleet crew, she had been among the first to request a permanent assignment on her old ship when they got back home.

  And, as hard as it was for Tom to admit it, he felt that Ensign (now Lieutenant) Vorik was the best choice for Ops. The young Vulcan had really developed into a fine engineer, and his years of working with B’Elanna had proven his ability to improvise in a crisis—a key talent for someone at the critical operations station. For more personal reasons, Paris also requested that Vorik’s Vulcan mate, a young Starfleet science officer named T’Perra, join the crew as well. Not that Tom expected their mission to keep Voyager out of contact for three years, but—considering Vorik’s choice of a substitute partner during his last pon farr—Paris wasn’t about to take any chances.

  Most of the newly-commissioned former Maquis would be working on the search and rescue detail. That left a slew of engineers, scientists and—for this mission—skilled pilots left to recruit. For the past three weeks Tom sat in his office, reviewing a mountain of personnel records in search of the right matches for their unique blended crew. As he read and re-read the mind-numbing files, two names kept jumping out at him.

  Noah Lessing had come to the Delta Quadrant on the USS Equinox, and had participated—peripherally and under direct orders—in some horrific actions during his pre-Voyager years. During their time together on Voyager, Tom had come to see another side of the man, and had spent some time wondering if, under other circumstances and with a less ethical captain, some of his friends might have made similar choices. He was relieved, in retrospect, that he would never have to find out.

  Tom was glad to learn that Noah and his friend, engineer Marla Gilmore, while officially reprimanded and permanently reduced in rank, were allowed to stay in the service when they reached Earth. Unlike some of their crewmates, the two had shown real remorse for their unethical behavior while on the Equinox. Tom had even requested that Noah be transferred from engineering to navigation not long after he came aboard Voyager. Tom knew Noah was a strong—though not quite brilliant—navigator, and he wanted to see the young man given another chance.

  It was a tough sell—the captain had a troubling experience with Noah during Voyager’s conflict with the Equinox. Tom didn’t know the details—neither Janeway nor Lessing would speak of it—but she agreed to let her first officer work with the young man and let him prove his value. But she declined to appoint Lessing Voyager’s permanent helmsman. Not yet. At least, Tom thought, she had agreed to give Noah a chance. It was all he could ask.

  B’Elanna had appointed Sue Nicoletti her new ‘right arm,’ the position recently vacated by Joe Carey, and they had agreed to ask Gilmore to be their new transporter chief. The job was still beneath the talented engineer’s skills, but Ensign Gilmore seemed to like being given the chance to earn her deliverance.

  So for now, there’d be no chief pilot. Tom would represent all navigational issues in senior staff meetings while they ‘test drove’ potential helmsmen, including Lessing. There was at least one other interesting contender for the position, however.

  Tom had asked for and received two recent Academy graduates, who couldn’t have been more different from one another.

  Ensign Robert Wang was the son of two well-regarded Federation officials, high-ranking officers in the diplomatic corps. He had excellent grades while at the Academy, yet his service record showed five different reprimands for everything from insubordination to unauthorized use of Starfleet property. He was a talented pilot, but his operator’ license had been suspended on three separate occasions. His Starfleet counselor noted the young man’s deep-seated anger and feelings of inadequacy, though she had rated him highly on issues of ethics and character. Her final notation was what jumped out at Tom: ‘It is my opinion that this young officer is destined to ruin what might otherwise be a fine career if he cannot find an opportunity to prove himself capable and worthy of the responsibility the service has placed with him.’ Wow. This sounded a little too familiar.

  The second
of his choices wasn’t at all controversial: a young Ktarian, also fresh from Starfleet Academy. Ensign Kayla Hower had just graduated at the top of her class, an engineering specialist with a reputation for innovation and excellence. She had her choice of postings, and was requesting assignment to Voyager. Hower’s personnel file also mentioned that she was a talented violinist and holoprogrammer. She had authored six holonovels while maintaining a perfect academic record, and playing on the championship Pareses Squares team. Clearly an overachiever. Her psych profile mentioned her guilelessness and innate sense of fairness. Hower was known for latching onto the least popular cadets and making them friends.

  Paris wasn’t at all surprised to find that Hower’s best friend was the walking reprimand, Ensign Wang.

  They couldn’t help but remind Tom of two other young officers he had once known. One, a screw-up pilot who needed to learn some respect for the uniform, and the other a stiff engineer who needed to be reminded of how to have some fun once in a while. Finding the other parallels downright eerie, Tom couldn’t help but wonder how much luck Hower had in her romantic life....

  If he could get his act together, Tom thought, Wang could be a serious challenger to Lessing for the top pilot’s spot one day. So, with Janeway’s permission and Hower’s friendship, Wang would be Tom Paris’s own ‘personal reclamation project.’ The captain wished him as much good luck as she’d had with hers.