Pathways - Jeri Taylor [90]
An ineffable emotion began to suffuse B’Elanna. It was vague and unfamiliar, and she couldn’t identify it, couldn’t even tell if it were similar to anything she’d ever felt before. She had a sudden, vivid memory of sitting in her father’s lap as a child, safe and protected, listening to her mother tell a story of a legendary Klingon hero. What was his name? She couldn’t remember any longer. But in that moment, secure in her father’s arms, hearing her mother’s mythic tale of courage and honor, she had felt as she did at this moment.
She glanced toward Chakotay, who was listening solemnly to Seska’s haunting song, his face betraying no emotion. She leaned toward him and whispered, “Chakotay, could your ship use a highly qualified engineer?”
When he turned to her and smiled, her heart hammered in her chest, and she suddenly identified the unfamiliar emotion she was experiencing.
It was happiness.
In the dreams, he came to her at night, taking her sometimes tenderly, sometimes in a feral hunger, but always because he loved her. He whispered of his passion, his adoration of her, his determination that they be together always. She would never again be lonely, or sad, or afraid, because he would be with her. He would never abandon her.
She would wake aroused and unsatisfied, but, for a few moments, enveloped in a drowsy cocoon of well-being. He loved her. He would stay with her.
And then the vaporous mists of sleep and dream would evaporate, and she remembered where she was. She lay on a hard cot in cramped crew quarters on board the Liberty, captained by the man of whom she dreamed. The man was a friend, who respected and trusted her, and who valued her abilities as an engineer.
But not the man who loved her.
Soon after she joined the Maquis, Seska caught her look toward Chakotay, and correctly interpreted it. She had waited until she and B’Elanna were working, alone, on a damaged shuttle they’d “salvaged” from a Federation ships’ graveyard.
As they struggled to repair the vessel’s driver coil assembly, Seska spoke casually. “How do you like it so far? Serving with the Maquis?”
B’Elanna was instantly wary. She didn’t dislike Seska, and she respected her abilities, but there was something in her voice as she asked the question that aroused suspicion. It was too offhand, more casual than the question warranted. B’Elanna shrugged. “It’ll do,” she replied.
Seska seemed hurt. “We’re starting to have a real impact. Cardassia has registered a formal complaint with the Federation about us. People can’t ignore us any longer—we’re a force in the demilitarized zone that has to be taken into account.”
“Then I guess we’re doing our job.”
Seska looked at her with accusation in her eyes. “You don’t really care, do you? To you, this is just a job, a way to pass your time. It’s not a cause like it is for the rest of us.”
“I’ve never been one for causes.” She was beginning to get annoyed. What was Seska up to? Why was she challenging her like this?
“If Chakotay knew that, he might have second thoughts about your being aboard.”
B’Elanna’s head whipped toward her. Suddenly she understood perfectly. Time to pick up the gauntlet. She faced Seska squarely. “Are you in love with him?”
The bluntness of the question caught Seska off guard. There was a brief startled flicker of the eyes, and a glance away as she gathered herself. But she was off balance for only that second. She turned back and fixed B’Elanna with a smug gaze. “He’s in love with me,” she stated decisively, and waited for B’Elanna’s response.
Torres eyed her with what she hoped was impassivity. “I’m surprised,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, but I’ve never seen him return that look. In fact, I’ve never seen him treat you as anything more than a valued crew member.”
“We’ve been having an affair