The Farther Shore - Christie Golden [54]
He stood at his post, hands loosely at his side. From where he had positioned himself, he could at once keep an eye on the regenerating Borg in case something went wrong, and an eye on the door. He could and would stand here for hours. He would only leave if Janeway summoned him, when the Borg had finished their regeneration, or if there were an emergency disturbance.
The door hissed open.
The third option, then.
The young man with the pale skin and fair hair had taken three steps inside before he saw the green glow. His jaw dropped open as he stared at the still figures of Seven of Nine and Icheb. One hand went up, holding a phaser, the other moved to his comm badge.
Before he could touch it, Tuvok had slipped up behind him. He squeezed the precise nerve and the [161] intruder dropped like a stone. Tuvok caught him as he fell, then dragged the limp body out of immediate sight of the door. While much of the cargo had been emptied from the cargo bay, Tuvok was able to find sufficient materials to bind and gag the guard. He relieved the fallen man of his phaser, strode back to his former position, and calmly took up his protective stance once again.
All Chakotay could think about was Black Jaguar. He could almost feel her behind him, her stride smooth and silent. Once he couldn’t resist it and even glanced quickly behind him, half-expecting to see her inky, feline form. He knew that the playful big cat lolling on the sun-warmed rock was gone. If Black Jaguar was indeed here, she would be the predator—quiet, quick, deadly, focused. As he, Chakotay, needed to be.
Regrets flooded his mind, simple sun-moments not embraced. He thought of words he hadn’t said, gestures he hadn’t made, risks he hadn’t taken. Now it might be too late. Soon, his world, as he had known it, might be very much changed.
The words he had told the mighty Spirit-cat came back to him: Black Jaguar is the totem of great power, of courage, of ferocity. Of fighting great battles in just causes. Of dealing out death to those who deserve it, and not flinching from the task. Black Jaguar strikes without warning and kills swiftly and fairly. When Black Jaguar appears, one is about to ...
And she had finished: One is about to embark on a journey that will test one’s mettle, wits, courage, and faith in the dark places. It is a trial of the highest sort, [162]and if one fails, then Black Jaguar will exact Her punishment. And if one succeeds, great good will come about, for the journeyer and the world.
If they could do it—if they could stop the Borg viras dead in its tracks—then Chakotay could see how it would bring about great good, for the journeyer and the world. It was a great battle, fought in a just cause.
He simply never thought he’d have to carry out that battle by skulking about Voyager, his prey fellow Starfleet officers. But here he was, striding beside his former captain, doing exactly that.
Janeway gazed at her tricorder, then nodded silently to her companion. He slipped away from her, darting for a nearby Jefferies tube, and climbed up just far enough so he wouldn’t be seen. Janeway waited. Chakotay listened intently. He could hear footfalls now, muffled slightly by the carpeting. They passed him, and Chakotay climbed down and stuck his head out gingerly.
Janeway was just around the corner. She strode forward vigorously, her eyes on the tricorder, and collided with the security guard. She faked a stumble and fall.
“Oh!” she cried as the “wind was knocked out of her.” Even as he waited for the moment, Chakotay admired her. She was good.
“Admiral Janeway!” exclaimed the young man, clearly mortified by running into a Starfleet legend. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you—here, please let me help you up.”
Janeway laughed, managing to strike exactly the right note of slight embarrassment, and extended her hand. , The young