Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [126]
“I’d like to discuss it with my husband,” B’Elanna finally said.
“Of course,” Eden replied. “I’ll await your answer.”
“Thank you so much, Captain,” B’Elanna said sincerely. “The idea that you would consider this is gratifying.”
“I didn’t know Kathryn Janeway as well as you did,” Eden said. “But I have studied her logs. I believe that journey’s success was due to her ability to find unconventional solutions to complicated problems. The people she chose to fill her critical staff positions were an integral part of that success. I feel lucky to have so many of her officers serving under me now. I think it would be wrong not to take advantage of them.”
“She was an extraordinary person,” B’Elanna agreed. “She taught me so much. Under her command I became someone I never knew I could be. I think the only way I can ever repay her faith and generosity would be to pass those lessons along.”
The captain rose and extended her hand. “As I said, talk to Tom and let me know what you decide.”
B’Elanna took Eden’s hand and shook it firmly. “I will,” she said, but she already knew what her answer had to be.
As soon as she’d seen the captain to the door, she turned to see Tom standing in the bedroom doorway holding Miral’s hand as she teetered forward. His huge smile indicated clearly that he’d overheard their exchange.
“Fleet Chief, huh?” He grinned.
“Maybe,” B’Elanna said, bending her knees and opening her arms to Miral. “What do you think?”
“I think I might just be the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Tom said gleefully.
“It’s going to be a lot of work, and a lot of schedule juggling. You’re first officer. That’s not something you can drop for a scraped knee or a runny nose.”
“You’re right,” Tom said. “But I don’t think that’s the question on the table.”
“What is?”
“What do you want?” Tom asked. “Whatever it is, we’ll make it happen.”
B’Elanna felt a chill of delight course up her spine.
“I want to do it,” B’Elanna whispered.
Tom crossed to take his wife and daughter into a warm embrace.
“Then let’s do it,” he said.
Chakotay was still sweating when he entered his quarters to find Counselor Cambridge standing before his replicator.
“Hello, Hugh,” Chakotay greeted him cheerily. An hour of hoverball had left him feeling pleasantly refreshed. He hadn’t taken the time in the last several weeks to take care of himself. But Seven seemed to be managing and the ship’s current crisis had passed. The time had come to begin thinking about his future. He’d agreed to meet Hugh for lunch to discuss it, but hadn’t expected to find the counselor waiting in his quarters. “Am I late?” Chakotay asked.
“No, I’m early,” Cambridge replied. “I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. The medical override of security systems is such a handy little tool.”
Chakotay no longer found the counselor’s abrupt and condescending style as unnerving as he once had. And he still wasn’t sure he knew Cambridge well enough to trust what he was sensing. Nonetheless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Hugh was a tad more surly than usual.
“I was going to grab a shower before lunch. I can meet you in the mess hall in fifteen minutes,” Chakotay offered.
“Go ahead,” Hugh replied as he instructed the replicator to produce a glass of synthehol scotch.
“It’s a little early in the day, isn’t it, Counselor?”
“It’s cocktail hour somewhere,” he replied as he took a generous sip.
“Something bothering you?” Chakotay asked.
“Of course not,” Cambridge replied. “I’m generally unpleasant.”
Chakotay couldn’t argue with that, but he also no longer believed it to be true.
“I understand Seven’s report went well this morning,” Chakotay said, deciding to do a little fishing.
“Oh, yes,” Cambridge agreed, taking a seat at Chakotay’s desk and continuing to nurse his drink.
“She seems greatly improved.”
“She is.”
“Are you concerned about her progress? Are you worried that she’s taking too much on, or maybe putting too much