Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [18]
“Sir?”
“That’s an order, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, sir. We’ll need your command authorization.”
“Computer, this is Commander Chakotay. Authorization Chakotay Alpha Tango Five Eight Nine.”
“Authorization denied.”
Chakotay stared in disbelief. “Computer, is my command code accurate?”
“Commander Chakotay’s authorization code is accurate but is currently disabled.”
Looking around the bridge, Chakotay couldn’t keep his features schooled. Instead, his eyes were wild, seeking answers. “Janeway…”
“It was not the captain,” Tuvok said, his voice cutting through the silence on the bridge.
Chakotay stared at the security chief, his eyes narrowing. He was seething.
“Explain, mister.”
“When the captain named you first officer, we adjusted the computer programming to recognize your new rank. However, as security chief, I had your authorization disabled… temporarily.”
Paris and Kim exchanged surprised looks while Chakotay just stared, the anger building inside him. It was just days ago he was betrayed by Tuvok and now, to his utter disbelief, he was being betrayed again by the Vulcan.
Tuvok continued, “We should withdraw from the area and discuss this elsewhere, commander.”
Chakotay put his hands on his hips to avoid clenching his fists. “No, Tuvok, here will be fine. After all, we’re only being fired upon.” While waiting for a response, he looked over a shoulder at Paris. “Keep evading them-go for distance over style.”
“An act that need not have happened,” Tuvok said.
“Let’s get back to your act,” Chakotay said, biting off each word. “When was my authorization going to be restored? What moment exactly?”
Tuvok looked steadily at the First Officer, remaining calm while the other man seethed. “The moment when it was decided you were to be totally trusted with the fate of the crew.”
“A moment to be decided by whom?”
“I was going to discuss it with the captain.”
Chakotay remained stunned. All he could hear around him were the various automated systems at work. No doubt, all eyes were on the two men but all the commander could see was the steely resolve of the man placed above him, on the bridge’s rear level. His nascent authority was being challenged in a bold way and he needed to defuse the situation, regain command authority and do it without seeming weak. Without looking, he knew Seska, the lone Maquis on the bridge, was watching and would no doubt spread the word of his actions. He couldn’t appear weak to the Starfleet officers or his former freedom fighters.
“When? After the Dresh destroy the ship? It’ll be a little late by then. Restore the codes.” His voice rose, its baritone carrying across the still bridge.
“No, sir.”
“That’s a direct order, Tuvok.”
“And one with which I cannot comply.”
The ship shuddered as more shots hit the shields, but the impact was mild. Everyone remained in place, Chakotay shifting his weight to compensate. He could not yield, physically or emotionally, to the situation. Yet, each second wasted was one bringing the Dresh closer to a victory he could not allow them.
“You’re disobeying the commanding officer’s direct order!”
“I am, sir, but I have my reasons.”
“I don’t give a damn about your reasons,” Chakotay snapped, feeling control slowly ooze from him. “Activate the code so I can save the ship.” Another volley rocked the bridge but he again shifted his feet and remained upright. Somehow, through the chatter from the com system and the bridge operations, he could hear his heart pound. He looked over his shoulder and briefly noted that Paris was working quickly, coaxing the ship to spin, dive or tilt to avoid direct fire.
“Your actions indicate a desire to fight rather than preserve the ship. We are outnumbered and outgunned, and they appear to be at least as fast as we are. The odds are stacked against your performance.”
“My performance?” Chakotay thundered. “I think I’ve shown you what I can do against bad odds.”
“That was with a different ship,” Tuvok countered. “Voyager has capabilities you have not experienced and are not trained on.