Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager belongs to Paramount, not me. Too bad.

Summary: A private moment during Season 6 when Voyager receives another data stream and Chakotay receives a message ‘from home.’

Messages from Home

by Mizvoy

I walked into the Voyager’s ready room with the latest power consumption and availability report only to find Captain Janeway standing in front of the huge windows on the upper tier staring at the stars streaming by. She acknowledged my presence with a slight nod through the window’s reflection, but didn’t turn to face me. I knew at once that something was upsetting her.

“Just put the PADD on my desk, Chakotay. I’ll get to it shortly.”

I paused a moment, noticing the tension in the way she held her head and shoulders and the exhaustion on her face, but I could also tell that this wasn’t the time to confront her. I nodded and walked to her desk to place the PADD there amidst the others when I saw the image on her computer screen-a photo of her and her former fiancé, Mark Johnson.

I should have just turned and left the room, but something about the image caught my attention. They were in formal attire. He wore a tuxedo and Kathryn wore a dazzling red gown, her hair elaborately piled on her head. Mark was smiling into the camera, his eyes dancing with warmth, humor, and intelligence. His smile was touching and infectious; I found myself smiling back. He was a big, powerful bear of a man who dwarfed the petite captain beside him. She was smiling also, but not into the camera. Instead, the camera caught her profile as she gazed up at him, her face full of admiration and adoration, the kind of look every man hopes to see on his beloved’s face. The love between them was obvious and deep.

I glanced back at her, realizing that she could see me staring at the screen, and suddenly I felt like a peeping Tom. “I’m sorry, Captain,” I said, starting for the door. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“We would have been married six years ago today,” she whispered, studying her hands. I saw the flash of a diamond on her finger.

I froze, wondering what to say. I know Kathryn Janeway better than anyone else does on this ship, yet there are times when I realize how much she holds back even from me. I never knew, for example, that she had her engagement ring with her, perhaps because she was seldom out of uniform in public and never wore jewelry. Plus, wearing the ring probably reminded her of how much she had lost when we were flung into the Delta Quadrant.

I walked to the upper tier and stood a step or two behind her. “They say,” I commented, “that once we truly love someone, we never really stop loving them.”

Her voice was a whisper. “I truly loved him, Chakotay.”

“I can see that in the picture. Besides, you wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if you weren’t in love.” I stared out of the window, too, while keeping a discreet eye on her reflection. “How about some coffee and a sympathetic shoulder?” I asked, heading for the replicator. I heard her sit down on the sofa as I retrieved the coffee. Handing her a mug, I sat down beside her and waited. She’d talk when she was ready.

“That’s my favorite picture of us together,” she said finally. “It was taken the night Mark asked me marry him.”

“You both look happy.”

“Oh, we were, Chakotay. It was New Year’s eve, and I’d just received word that I’d gotten command of Voyager. I had everything I’d ever wanted. The newest ship in Starfleet and a wonderful man who loved me.” I sat watching her as she fiddled nervously with the ring.

“Maybe you can write him in the regular data streams with Starfleet. Maybe you can reach a sense of closure about the relationship.”

She sat back and looked at me, her hand hovering near her temple in the classic Janeway sign of an oncoming headache. “Is that what I’m lacking, Chakotay? A sense of closure?”

“Most deep attachments end with a bang or a whimper,” I answered, gratified to see her mouth twitch into a lopsided grin. “No, really. They end with a huge fight or a loss of interest, both of which allow a sense of closure.”

“Like you and Seska.”

“Yes, well, that’s an exception. We ended up with a bang and a whimper.” I could feel myself blushing, and she chuckled as she put a comforting hand on my arm. “Except for the ‘Dear John’ letter three years ago, Kathryn, you two haven’t had a chance to communicate about this, to accept what’s happened.”

She sighed. “I can’t imagine seeing him in person again.” She stood up and started pacing. “I keep telling myself that he’s married, maybe even a father, but my heart just won’t listen.”

I watched her pace as I sipped my coffee. I thought it ironic, really, that most of the crew believed Kathryn and I were involved with each other when, in fact, she was still coming to terms with her broken engagement to Mark Johnson, a man most of them knew little or nothing about. When they complained about her decision to strand us here, they were usually wallowing in self pity, thinking of all that her decision had cost them personally, blaming Kathryn as if she weren’t suffering the same losses. Of course, she was too much a captain to let her mourning show to the crew, but she had, at last, felt comfortable enough with me to talk about it. At least the rest of us could blame her for our agony; she had only herself to blame.

I glanced around the room. Every picture of Johnson and every memento that reminded her of him had gradually been put away as our journey became longer and more difficult. Most of the crew believes that she’s long since come to terms with her life, but they don’t know what she’s lost. Harry Kim once asked her if she’d ever been in love! She would’ve been married six years ago today, and she probably would have been a mother by now. All that is gone forever. While she seems to have accepted that fate in front of the crew, I know better, because she lets me see, once in awhile, her frustration and despair. I know her better than Mark ever did, she tells me. She means I’m the best friend she’s ever had. I know she’s mine.

We have more in common than just our relationships with Kathryn, Mark and I. Once I realized who he was, a distinguished philosopher in the Questor think tank, I accessed everything he’d ever written from the computer’s database. I found it fascinating that the man Kathryn was so devoted to expressed a spirituality that is almost mystical. He reminded me of myself. Another irony.

“What are you thinking about, Chakotay?” She was standing in front of me, pouring a second mug of coffee.

“I was just thinking about the crew’s image of you. I don’t think they realize how sentimental you are.”

“Am I that much of a monster to them?”

I laughed. “They don’t know about Mark. They don’t see Kathryn, the woman; they just see the captain. They see your determination to complete the journey as something you’re doing for them, not for yourself, too.”

“Because I stranded us out here, you mean.” She nodded. “I guess that’s a compliment.” Before I could answer, she stopped me with a gesture and sat back down on the sofa. “Mark and I no longer have a relationship to give closure to, Chakotay.”

“I think you do.”

She glanced away, hiding her face from me. “It’s hard to go back to being just friends, you know.”

“I know.” Boy, did I. Seska and I never made it.

“I actually thought I might hear from him in our last batch of messages from Starfleet, but not a word, just a long letter from my mother without a word about Mark. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Maybe you should just come out and ask her about him. Would it help to know he’s happily married? That he’s a father?”

“I need something to make me accept the reality of it, Chakotay. I thought that after ‘Dear John’ letter I could just move on.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

She grinned at me. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

I felt a little embarrassed. “You can always talk to me about it, you know. Sometimes it helps to talk these things out.”

She was silent a long time, sipping her coffee and studying the black surface of the fluid. “I know that. Really, I don’t have time to think about it. I don’t have a personal life, you know, except for our friendship. You’ve been good for me, a good friend. I can’t imagine doing this without you.”

“I’m glad I can help.” Because we were equals when we first met, captains of starships, although my little Maquis ship was tiny compared to Voyager, I’ve always been keenly aware of the woman behind the mask of command. I think she saw me the same way initially, as an equal. It’s too bad that rank and the protocol that comes with it has kept us apart.

She finally said, “I don’t know what I dread most about getting home. Seeing Mark again or having to tell you goodbye.”

The room was silent as we both contemplated the impact of what she’d said. We sat as still as a statue and I know I held my breath. Finally, I said, “You don’t ever have to tell me goodbye, Kathryn.”

She nodded and took my hand. “I won’t, then.”

Before I could answer, Tuvok interrupted us. “Bridge to Captain Janeway.”

“Go ahead,” she answered, pulling her hand away and starting for her desk, escaping from me and from the personal direction our conversation had taken.

“The monthly data stream has arrived from the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Very well, Tuvok. Send my messages to me and forward the personal messages to everyone’s quarters where they can access them once they’re off duty.”

“Aye, Captain.”

She sat down at her desk and stared briefly at the picture. As she brought the messages onto the screen, she deftly removed her ring and placed it in a tiny black box in her desk drawer. She scrolled through the messages as if she was looking for something, and I imagined that she was probably looking for a message from Mark. I was mistaken.

She looked up. “It seems Admiral Hayes has responded to our ‘Maquis status’ message of a few months ago. Shall we listen together?”

I obediently made my way to her desk. I should’ve known she’d think of the ship and crew first, before she scanned her personal messages. “Maybe Starfleet doesn’t want the ‘Maquis captain’ to hear the message, Kathryn.”

She gave me a crooked grin. “Maybe they don’t, but I do.”

I sat across from her at the desk as she positioned the screen so we could both see it. I was waiting for her to activate the screen when I realized she was staring at me. “Captain?”

“I don’t make commitments quickly or easily, Chakotay, and when I make them, I’m deadly serious about them.”

I looked at her for a moment, realizing that her difficulty in finding closure with Mark was a direct result of that quality. “Just one of the many things I admire in you, Kathryn. I’m like that myself.”

She nodded, and I sensed something important was happening between us. “The actions you took as a Maquis are viewed by Starfleet as criminal, even traitorous, but I see them as the inevitable result of your morals and your loyalty to your family. They might say I’m rationalizing, but I see it as empathizing. I hope I’d have the courage to do what you did if the Cardassians slaughtered my family and destroyed my home world. Whatever actions you took, I forgive you for them. I’ll defend you for taking them.”

I couldn’t breath. I expected her to support us for what we’d done on Voyager, but never for what we’d done as Maquis. “Kathryn, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Oh, yes, I do. I trust you with my ship and my crew. I trust you with my life and my honor. I’ve never known anyone who matches me so well in thought, belief, tenacity, and courage, and I value your opinion, friendship, and professionalism.” She glanced at the blank screen. “I don’t know what we’re about to hear, but I’m making you a promise.”

I nodded. “I know you’ll fight for us, Kathryn.”

She sighed. “Will you let me finish?” She patted my hand and smiled. “My highest loyalty is to my crew, to the people who have followed me through this God-forsaken quadrant. We are family, Chakotay, and I will be as loyal to you and this crew as you were to your family on Dorvan V.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? “Captain, none of the Maquis would ask you to sacrifice your career for us. We know what we did, and we know there’s a price to pay for having done it. Do you really think you could attack other Starfleet vessels or Federation outposts? Could you leave Starfleet?”

“I hope it won’t come to that.” She looked down and covered my hand with hers. “We didn’t struggle all this way to have a third of the crew thrown in prison. The Maquis have proven that they can live and thrive inside the law when the law is humane and fair.”

God, I thought, but I like this woman. “I promise the same loyalty to you, Kathryn, and so does the Maquis crew.”

“I know you do,” she said, squeezing my hand. She activated the screen, the gratification of seeing the Federation symbol clearly written all over her face. Then, she suddenly paused the message again and turned back to me. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“When I do finally see Mark and find this ‘closure’ you say I need,” she began, stopping to look out at the stars.

“Yes, when you do?”

“It’s not going to be a bang, Chakotay, but a whimper. I’m going to need a shoulder to cry on, someone to pick up the pieces.”

It was my turn to squeeze her hand. “I’ve told you I’d always be there for you,” I reminded her.

We held each other’s eyes for long moments, silent promises and affirmations passing between us, before she finally looked away and reactivated the screen. “It occurs to me that there’s another way that relationships find closure, Chakotay.”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes both parties discover they’ve fallen in love with someone new,” she said, activating the message before I could say a word in reply.

I don’t remember much about what Admiral Hayes said, and not just because he used every vague term and all the double-talk available to a practiced bureaucrat. My head was spinning. Had she said what I thought she’d said? I knew better than to ask for further clarification. She’d deny that she’d had any hidden meaning to her words, of course, but I knew they were there.

“Well, that didn’t tell us much, did it?” she laughed when the message ended.

“It tells us that they don’t know what do to about the Maquis,” I answered. “I imagine there’ve been some heated discussions in the admiralty.”

“You don’t have to sit through the rest of this stuff,” she sighed, scrolling through the long list of remaining official messages. “I’ll forward anything of interest to you later.”

“Aye, Captain. I need to return to the bridge.” I was headed to the door when she stopped me one last time.

“Chakotay.” I stopped and faced her. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve been nothing but a Starfleet captain on this interminable journey. I hope you like the real Kathryn Janeway when you finally meet her.”

A thousand images of Kathryn flashed through my mind. I saw her grinning at me as we listened to gossip on the bridge. I saw the tenderness with which she held the little Borg baby. I saw the excitement on her face when she examined the children’s science projects in the mess hall. I saw her smiling at me as she transplanted her Talaxian tomatoes on New Earth. I remembered her tears every time we lost a member of the crew. I saw her looking down at me as I lay on a biobed, barely masking her fear of losing me. “I’ve liked all the little glimpses of her I’ve seen over the years.”

She blushed. She really did. And she shook her head as she returned to the viewscreen. “Dismissed,” she said, waving me away.

I entered a bridge that was simmering with excitement. Sitting down in my chair, I said, “Tuvok, let’s rotate a break for the bridge crew so anyone with messages from home can see them before the shift ends.”

“Very well, Commander,” he replied as he set up a list that gave each crewmember with messages a fifteen minute break. When he forwarded the list to my console, my name, I noticed, was missing from his list. There was no one left in the Alpha Quadrant to send me a message, and frankly, I hadn’t expected any.

Harry Kim’s name was first on the list, and he hurriedly headed for the turbolift. “Did you receive a message from home, Commander?” he asked, his voice happy, full of anticipation.

I found myself staring at Kathryn’s ready room doors. “Yes, Harry,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I believe I did.”