Homecoming - Christie Golden [30]
“Nice ship, Captain Chakotay,” she said. He threw her a quick grin.
“Always told you I wanted a nice little ship of my own,” he said. “You know, as a first officer, you’re not half bad.”
“Coming from the best first officer it’s been my [86] pleasure to know, I’m flattered.” “You know, Tom Paris would call this a ‘road trip,’ ” she added.
“I like this better than a Camaro,” Chakotay replied.
The stars streaked by as they sat in comfortable silence for a while. Finally, Janeway said, “I understand that all the former Maquis on Voyager were offered the opportunity to return to Starfleet, with all rank returned.”
“It was a generous offer,” said Chakotay, reaching down and tapping the console.
“Will it be one you accept?”
“I don’t know yet.” He turned to look at her, and his dark eyes were serious. “I hadn’t expected our return to be without its difficulties, but I confess, I’m surprised at some of the emotions it’s stirring up.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Janeway, thinking of Mark, Carla, and little Kevin. “I don’t think we realized just how sheltered we were on Voyager.”
“I had a chance to meet with Sveta and some of the other Maquis at the banquet. For them, it’s all the past, but for me—well, not having been there, not having gone through it with them, it’s still pretty raw.”
Even at their most intimate over the last seven years, Chakotay had never spoken quite so freely. Janeway was touched by his confidence. She had thought they had grown close, and was certain that they had, but clearly, that barrier between captain and crewman had blocked off more than she had thought.
“Speaking of the banquet,” she said, “and feel free to tell me to mind my own business if you’d like, but I noticed that you and Seven weren’t sitting together.”
His face was impassive. “Seven feels that while our [87] relationship might have flourished had we stayed on Voyager, it won’t now that we’ve reached Earth. She needs to find out who she is here, and I agreed. Hell, I need to find out who I am here.”
Janeway nodded her comprehension. She thought so. Much as Seven liked to think of herself as cool and collected, her emotions were an easy book to read to anyone who knew and loved her. She was sorry for Chakotay, but not surprised.
She took a look at the coordinates of their destination. Somehow, it seemed familiar. Then Janeway realized where they were headed, and her stomach tightened. Chakotay was bringing her along with him to face some of the demons of his past.
They did not speak the rest of the time, but sat, each lost in private thoughts. Finally, Chakotay dropped out of warp and into orbit around a small moon. He leaned back, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly through his mouth. Janeway recognized it for what it was: a calming breath, to steady himself for what lay ahead.
He straightened, resumed control, and took the Alpha Flyer down. Tom Paris couldn’t have made a smoother landing, and when he set them down gently, Janeway looked out at the deceptive beauty of this moon that housed such a horror.
They got out and walked toward a tall standing stone. On it was a bronze plaque. “I didn’t know Starfleet had marked this already,” Janeway said, her voice hushed and reverent as if she were in a holy place. In a very real sense, she was.
“They haven’t,” Chakotay replied, his own voice [88] soft. “Sveta and some of the other Maquis did this all on their own.”
Strangely, Janeway felt stung by the comment. “I’m certain Starfleet would have gotten around to making this official,” she said.
“I’m not. There’s a lot on their minds right now. Memorializing people once considered traitors can’t be very high on their list.”
The plaque read:
On this site, on Stardate 50953.4, one of the most brutal massacres of the Dominion War took place. For many months, Tevlik’s moon had been a secret base for the group calling themselves the Maquis, who fought a private war based on their highest morals and ethics against the Cardassions, whom they regarded as the enemy. It