Star Trek: Voyager®: Full Circle

by Kirsten Beyer

  “Harry, I’m married to a director of Starfleet Intelligence,” Libby said gently. “I’m not saying he tells me everything, but he’s pretty good at keeping me up to date if it has anything at all to do with Voyager.”

  “Oh,” Harry replied. “I guess that makes sense. But why would you care?”

  She shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

  Harry didn’t know why, but he liked the idea that she was still keeping tabs on him.

  “Are you worried about going back?” she asked.

  “Not really,” Harry admitted. “It was a bit of a shock, but the mission actually makes sense. We need to know what’s out there now that the Borg are gone. And they’re giving us all the newest technological toys, so I don’t really see us getting stranded again.”

  “I guess that’s comforting.”

  Harry picked up a handful of loose rocks and began to toss them one at a time into the ocean below. It was too dark now to see where they might have hit, and the sound of crashing waves made listening for them fruitless, but just the activity was relaxing.

  “I guess I just feel like somewhere along the line, I made a mistake. I turned right when I should have turned left. I did something wrong and maybe if I hadn’t, things would be better now,” Harry said, punctuating it with a hard throw.

  Libby tried not to smile. “Harry, I know your parents raised you to believe otherwise, but the universe actually doesn’t revolve around you.”

  Harry felt his cheeks begin to burn.

  “I know that,” he replied weakly.

  “You couldn’t control or change anything that’s happened. None of us could. We just do the best we can at any given time, make the best choices possible, and then learn to live with the rest.”

  “I can accept that,” Harry said, “but what about the things I could control?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like us.”

  Libby looked away for a long moment, obviously struggling with herself. Finally she turned back and said simply, “Harry, what happened between you and me was not your fault.”

  “I was there,” he countered. “I have to take some responsibility for it.”

  “No, you really don’t,” she replied. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

  Her words released something in him, something that had been wound too tight for too long. But part of him didn’t really believe it.

  “I don’t blame you, Libby,” he said.

  “You should.”

  “Come on. You asked me for more time, and I didn’t think I could give it to you. What if I had? Wouldn’t things be different?”

  “No.”

  Libby rose from where she had rested and stepped gingerly toward him. He held out a hand to help her keep her balance. She looked up at him, her eyes misting, and said, “I should have told you this a long time ago. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

  “Told me what?” he asked, suddenly a little nervous.

  “When you asked me to marry you, I couldn’t, not because I didn’t love you, but because I hadn’t been completely honest with you. I couldn’t tell you who I really was, what I had become, because it was classified. Five months ago, I formally resigned from Starfleet Intelligence. I’d been serving as a covert agent there for almost ten years.”

  Harry felt certain she had suddenly begun to speak an alien language.

  “Now that I’m no longer an operative, I’m not compromising anything by telling you. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t broadcast it, but it’s finally no longer a matter of Starfleet security.”

  Harry struggled to wrap his brain around the timing. “Ten years?”

  “I joined up six months after your ship disappeared. I needed to know what really happened to you. I thought Starfleet Intelligence might know the answer, even if they weren’t going to share it with the public. They took me on because my touring schedule created a perfect cover for my work. And it turned out I was pretty good at it. More importantly, I liked it. You always used to talk so much about being of service. I didn’t think I had that in me, but it turned out I did. Somehow, following in your footsteps even in a different branch of Starfleet made me feel a little closer to you.”

  Harry’s mind was reeling, but he refrained from saying anything that might stop her from speaking.

  “When you got back, I promised myself I would leave you be. I knew I couldn’t tell you who I was, and I justified it to myself by assuming you’d forgotten about me long ago. But you became my new assignment. I tried to keep it professional, but I couldn’t. I fell in love with you all over again, or maybe I just realized that I’d never really stopped. But that didn’t change the fact that you and I just couldn’t work anymore. I was lying to you every time I saw you, and I’d have to continue lying to you every day we were married. It wasn’t right.”

  Harry began to shake as the magnitude of her betrayal sank in.

  “So why didn’t you just resign then?”

  Libby stepped back and turned away. “You’ll think it’s stupid,” she said softly.

  “I have no idea what to think right now,” Harry replied.

  “As an agent, I was actually in a position to help keep you safe.”

  “How did you come to that conclusion?”

  Libby smiled faintly. “Do you remember Peregrine?”

  Harry felt as if she had physically struck him. Peregrine had been the code name for someone he had never identified, someone who consistently fed him and his crew vital information at critical moments during the Borg virus crisis and their mission to Loran II.

  “That was you?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yep. I needed to know you were safe, and I couldn’t do that as your wife and a concert musician. But from the inside, I had options. I couldn’t walk away from that.”

  “So, what changed? Why did you finally resign?”

  “The last year has been really tough on those in my line of work. It’s your job to fight the Federation’s battles, but it was mine to try and make sure those battles never had to be fought. Then the Borg showed up and billions of people died. It broke something in me. I needed something to hold on to. And to be honest, I’ve loved Aiden for a long time. He put me back together when I thought I’d lost you forever, and he’s been the one constant in my life since then. He already knew all of my deep, dark secrets. I’d never been forced to lie to him. But I also couldn’t continue to work for him. I thought about just requesting a transfer, but at the end of the day, after everything the Federation has been through, I just needed a clean break, a new beginning, and maybe some peace.”

  “I understand that,” Harry said.

  “I wasn’t ever going to tell you, Harry. You were right to end our relationship when you did because I’d never have had the strength to. I could never think less of you for that choice, and I’ve always been afraid that if you knew, you would think less of me.”

  Harry stood silently for several moments. The strangest thing was, difficult as it was to accept, knowing at least this much of the truth did help.

  “You’re not at all who I thought you were,” he finally said.

  “No.”

  “And you’re right. It never would have worked under those conditions.”

  “No.”

  “And if you’d told me when I proposed to you, I would have…”

  “Hated me?”

  “No. But I would have felt betrayed. I don’t think I would have taken it well.”

  Harry felt something of the weight he’d been carrying for too long begin to lift from his shoulders.

  “And now?”

  Harry sighed.

  “Now, it’s the past, and it’s not so hard to understand. It makes sense. I can let it go,” he said with a smile of relief. “I’m glad you told me. It helps.”

  “Good.”

  Harry stepped back to put some distance between them and inhaled deeply. His mind felt suddenly clearer than it had in weeks.

  “You we
re a secret agent?”

  “I was.”

  “That’s actually kind of hot.”

  Libby laughed, and soon Harry joined her.

  “I can’t remember the last time I heard you do that,” she said.

  “Me either,” he replied. “Don’t tell your husband I said that, though. He could probably have me assassinated, right?”

  “Officially, no,” Libby said. “Unofficially…”

  “Right.” Harry nodded.

  “So what now?”

  Harry turned to stare out into the darkness.

  “Once again into the great unknown, I suppose.”

  “You’re going to be fine, Harry,” Libby said gently. “Just worry about the things you can do something about. The rest will take care of itself.”

  Harry nodded. He didn’t know if he really believed her, but that thought was more comforting than any of those he’d brought with him when he arrived.

  “I will.” After a moment he said, “Just promise me something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.”

  “I will if you will. I meant what I said to you the night we broke up. I can’t imagine a world in which you and I won’t always be friends.”

  “Neither can I,” Harry said.

  Only this time, he meant it.

  Chakotay stared at his comm panel. Though it was the middle of the night in San Francisco, it was early morning at Utopia Planitia, where Voyager was docked. Much of his time over the past few days had been spent with Seven, but he’d promised himself he would make this call before Voyager launched. In a way he dreaded the prospect, but then no one ever said that making amends was easy. Whatever response he received, it would be no less than he deserved.

  Finally resolved, he activated the terminal and waited for the connection to establish itself. Soon enough, Tom’s harried face appeared before him.

  “Captain?” he said, at something of a loss.

  “Hello, Tom,” Chakotay replied.

  “I don’t really…I mean things are…” Tom began.

  “You’re getting ready to launch,” Chakotay interjected. “You’ve had dozens of last-minute requests for accommodation changes and half the crew hasn’t reported in for their medical evaluations and your final cargo shipments haven’t been cleared for transport.”

  “How did you know?” Tom asked.

  “I used to do your job, remember?” Chakotay smiled. “The last thing you have time for right now is a conversation.”

  “That pretty much covers it,” Tom agreed.

  “So I’ll keep this brief,” Chakotay said.

  Tom tightened his jaw but nodded for Chakotay to continue.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about the last several months, and a couple of things have become very clear to me. I’m not proud of my behavior, especially toward you, but no matter how bad things got, you never failed to support me. I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

  Tom’s face softened, but he remained silent.

  “And I also want you to know that I heard about B’Elanna and Miral. I’m so sorry, Tom. I know there’s nothing I can do to make it better. It’s going to hurt like hell for a long time. I miss them terribly. They were extraordinary women, your wife and daughter. Irreplaceable. But if you let it, time will help you heal. And if there is anything you need from me, please ask.”

  Tom swallowed hard before replying, “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re a fine officer, Tom. You’ve always made me proud, and I don’t expect that to change. I know that Voyager is in good hands, and I wish you a safe journey.”

  Tom nodded. After a moment he said, “I’m sorry you’re not going with us.”

  “Everything happens for a reason, Tom,” Chakotay replied. “You don’t need to worry about me. Just do your job. Take care of your captain and your crew. I’ll still be around when you get back, and I expect you to return with lots of good stories to tell.”

  “I will.”

  “Now get back to work, Commander.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Tom said, his voice thick.

  Chakotay replied with a tight smile. As he reached toward the panel to terminate the call, Tom said, “You look better than you have in a while.”

  “That might be because I am better.”

  “You were in love with her, weren’t you?” Tom asked.

  To hear this simple truth expressed with such compassion by an old friend touched Chakotay’s heart deeply.

  “I was,” he finally acknowledged.

  “You could have told me,” Tom said.

  “I know,” Chakotay replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t. I should have remembered that you are one of only a handful of friends I absolutely trust.”

  Tom appeared stricken by this comment Chakotay had meant to be a compliment.

  “Are you sure that under the circumstances you really want to take this trip, Tom?” Chakotay asked.

  “At this point, I don’t have much of a choice,” Tom answered quickly.

  “We always have choices,” Chakotay reminded him. “Some are just harder to make than others.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Tom insisted.

  “That’s all I’ll ever need to hear from you,” Chakotay replied.

  “I have to get going,” Tom said.

  “I understand. Keep your friends close right now. They won’t let you down. And if you get a chance, have a talk with Counselor Cambridge. I know he can help, if you’re willing to let him.”

  Tom nodded with a faint smile and terminated the connection. Only once Tom’s face had vanished did Chakotay realize how much of his heart was going with Voyager.

  They’ll be fine, he assured himself.

  Rising from the station, he went to his replicator and ordered a cup of hot tea. He only had a few hours of sleep to look forward to and he needed every one of them.

  He reached the doorway to his bedroom before it dawned on him that his work for this day was not yet done.

  There was one more call he needed to make.

  Captain Eden was still having trouble adjusting to the idea that Voyager’s ready room was now hers. She’d spent many hours in the inviting space and personally supervised its reconstruction, along with the rest of the ship, but never in all that time had she felt connected to it so personally.

  Though her stomach turned with a fair share of prelaunch jitters, Eden had already checked and rechecked every item on her list several hours earlier, and until Voyager received clearance to depart, there really wasn’t much else for her to do. Paris had the last-minute matters well in hand, and her crew seemed to be performing already like a well-oiled machine.

  Willem had yet to make an appearance this morning. He’d spent most of the last few days in his quarters and had received her hourly updates with a minimum of conversation. When she’d signed off around two that morning to attempt to get a few hours of sleep, he’d looked a little pale. Doctor Sharak, her new CMO, had advised her more than once that the admiral was among only a small contingent of crewmen who had failed to report for their standard medical evaluation, and she had promised to drag Willem down there herself if need be. He had every right to be as exhausted as the rest of them, but even the fleet’s commander was required to submit to regulations, a fact she would remind him of none too gently as soon as they spoke this morning. If he was coming down with something, he’d be less inclined to humor her, but she’d at least make the attempt.

  The captain considered taking her station on the bridge. She expected that some of her officers—Paris, Kim, Lasren, and Patel, in particular—would have a little difficulty seeing her in the center seat, and the sooner they became accustomed to her presence, the better. They were all well suited for their respective positions, and she truly felt grateful to be serving with them. Their expectations of her would undoubtedly be high, considering the shoes she was filling, but Eden did not doubt her ability to exceed them. />
  In time.

  Her misgivings, however, were ultimately overwhelmed by her excitement. She had studied Voyager’s logs so thoroughly, there were times it almost felt like she’d already been there. She’d marveled at their discoveries even as she understood that they had barely scratched the surface of what was out there. This time, with peaceful exploration at the top of their agenda, Eden was thrilled with the prospect of digging deeper into those mysteries, old and new.

  Now that the command was hers, she had every intention of giving it everything she had to offer.

  And maybe…just maybe…

  Her thoughts were interrupted by an incoming transmission. Turning to her companel, she opened the communication and saw Captain Chakotay’s face before her.

  “Good morning, Captain,” she said automatically.

  “Hello,” he said with more warmth than she’d imagined she could have mustered had their positions been reversed.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m sorry to intrude, Captain,” he said most cordially. “I know how busy you must be.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  “Congratulations on your new assignment,” Chakotay said sincerely. His tone and demeanor were so composed that Eden found herself wondering exactly what the admirals had seen to convince them that he was not ready to resume his command.

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  “You’ve been given the finest vessel in all of Starfleet, Captain.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “If I may, I would like to ask one favor of you.”

  “Please.” Eden nodded.

  “I know there are a lot of new faces on board, but part of me will always think of Voyager’s crew as mine.”

  Eden felt her face settling into harder lines.

  Chakotay went on, unruffled. “You are about to depart on what will certainly be a wondrous but equally dangerous new mission. When that mission is over, I’d only ask one thing of you.”

  “What’s that, Captain?”

  “Bring them home.”

  Eden felt the brief tension that had shrouded her fall away. With an understanding nod, she said, “You have my word.”

  “Thank you,” Chakotay replied.