The night of the party proved to be a hectic one, with both of them trying to get ready at the same time. They were staying aboard the ship that night, and conducting inspections the next day, so they worked extra hours to make up for the time they'd loose, causing them to get home late.
Besides tours of the ship, the upper echelon of Starfleet and the Senior Bridge crew had been granted quarters on board *Voyager* for the evening. Kathryn suspected it was a way to keep the major participants at the gala for as long as possible, ensuring a successful party, and something for the press to comment on. She only hoped Mark, Chakotay and herself wouldn't be part of that news. The one saving grace was Mark wouldn't be staying on board, and she counted on his departure soon after his speech. He usually stayed for the obligatory drink with his hosts, then left. Hopefully, tonight wouldn't be the one he chose to change his habits.
Kathryn was fighting with her hair, and Chakotay couldn't seem to get his pips on the collar of his dress uniform. She could see even his endless patience was wearing thin and she offered to help.
"Let me do that. I know we're running late, but they can't start without us, so relax."
"You're a fine one to talk," he said, tilting his head so it was easier to apply the pips.
"Gods, I hate these uniforms!" When she was done, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a light kiss.
"Thanks," he said smiling. "I don't know what I ever did without you."
"I sometimes wonder myself," she answered, a wry smile of her own, tugging on the corners of her mouth.
"Okay," she said. "Your turn." She handed him the mass of her hair and said, "Do something with it. You're so much better at it than I am." Running his fingers through the length, he decided to French braid it. It was the style he was the best at, and under the pressure of their time constriction, he didn't feel he should experiment.
Ever since he'd moved in with her, she made him dress her hair. She jokingly referred to it as his "rent," and it seemed to have to be paid daily. Not that it was any hardship for him. He loved her hair; the trouble was, once he started to run his fingers through it, he had more of an urge to mess it up than style it.
He reached for a silver clasp from her dressing table and announced, "all done."
"Thanks," she said, "I don't know what I ever did without you," she said, purposely echoing his words.
"I sometimes wonder myself," he replied following suit. He took a deep breath. "So, are we ready to face the sharks, Captain?"
"As ready as we'll ever be, Commander." Molly was back at the kennel for the evening, and next day as well. All they needed was their overnight cases. Stepping outside the house, she took a moment to gaze up into the cloudless, night sky. *Voyager* was up there somewhere, and in a matter of minutes, she'd be back among the stars. She was so excited, she felt a small shiver go through her.
"Cold?" Chakotay asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
"No, I was just thinking about our ship, that she's up there right now, just waiting for us."
"I have to admit I'm looking forward to spending a night among the stars myself, but we better get to the transport site, or we'll miss the boat!" She smiled at his use of naval clich�s. It seemed like he tossed them in when ever he could, and she wondered what his motivations were. A tie to the past? She'd have to remember to ask him sometime.
*********
Kathryn and Chakotay stepped off the transporter pad and took in the first sight of *Voyager*. The room fairly glowed with its newness. An Ensign, standing at attention behind the controls, informed them,
"Captain, Commander, they're waiting for you on Holodeck 2, Deck 6. The turbo-lift is down the hallway to your left."
"Thank you, Ensign. . . .?" Kathryn asked.
"Boyd, sir," the young woman answered her, standing even taller as she addressed her new Commanding Officer As they walked down the hallway, Kathryn commented to Chakotay,
"The first thing we're going to do is have a shipwide announcement that the Captain wishes to be addressed *as* Captain. We're going to nip this 'sir' business before we leave space-dock!" Chakotay just smiled at her vehemence; "sir" was such an issue with her.
Stepping into the turbo-lift, Chakotay was about to give the order for Deck 6, then held his hands out to her.
"Please, Captain. After all, it is your ship."
"It's *our*ship," she stressed.
"But the computer will only accept one command, and you should do the honors"
"Computer," Kathryn announced, standing up straighter as if she were addressing a living entity, "Deck 6."
There was an infinitesimal sensation of movement as the lift headed for Deck 6. "Computer, halt turbo-lift," Chakotay ordered. She turned to ask him why he'd stopped the lift, and found herself the recipient of a long, intimate kiss.
"I just needed one kiss to get through this," he said, by way of explanation. "Before we step out there and have to be the Captain and Commander again.
She wound her arm around his neck and gave him a kiss of her own. "You better plan on following through with what you started in here, say 01:00 hours, my quarters?"
"I'll be there," he said, giving her one more light kiss.
"Formal attire is optional," she breathed, pulling her arms back and standing away from him. "Computer, resume."
Deck 6 was awash with lights, music and the cacophony of hundreds of conversations as they stepped from the lift. The doors to the Holodeck were open and celebrants had spilled into the corridor. Kathryn had an overwhelming urge to take Chakotay's hand, but knew word of the gesture would be around the room before they even entered. Chakotay smiled his reassurance at her and guided her into the party with a hand on the small of her back. She was about to comment about the intimacy of his touch, but his hand was removed before it could be misconstrued as improper. Kathryn had been grateful for the contact, and wished it were appropriate for him to leave his hand where it had rested.
"Captain and Commander on the Holodeck!" A man called out, poking fun at the standard cry of "Captain on the Bridge!." Kathryn looked over and saw Tom Paris, a glass of champagne in hand, face flushed. As if she had any doubt who would have the audacity to make such a statement! She gave him her best "Captain's glare," and was rewarded with Tom raising his glass to her and nodding.
"Captain, Commander, welcome to *Voyager*, and one of the best parties Starfleet has managed this year." He swayed slightly, his speech slowed to a drawl.
"Tom, this is hardly proper conduct for the Lieutenant assigned to the Conn," Janeway chastised him, as reporters closed around them. Bright lights flashed as photos were being taken, and holo-camera's captured the entrance of Starfleet's current celebrities.
"Come on," she said, dragging the intoxicated Pilot out of the lime light, grateful to have something else to concentrate on other than the swarms of reporters she had abandoned Chakotay to. She'd pay for that later she realized, but returned her thoughts to Tom.
"I think it's time you switched to synth-ale," she advised.
"Why? This way I don't feel the old man glowering at me."
"I think your behavior might have something to do with that," Kathryn said.
"It started long before the party," Tom said, but didn't elaborate. Unfortunately this was not the time to delve into the Paris' family problems.
"We'll talk about this later, okay? Right now I have to go play the delighted Captain."
"Aren't you the 'delighted Captain?'" he asked, almost falling into her.
"Of course I am, but I don't like all the attention, although, in your current state, you may steal that attention. Why don't you have a seat here," she said, pushing him into a chair on room's perimeter, "and we'll talk later," she repeated. Tom seemed placated for the moment, and she rejoined Chakotay.
"*That's* our Pilot?" Chakotay asked, incredulous.
"He's having a rough night," Kathryn rationalized for Tom. "I'm sure everything will be better once he sobers up a little. I'm kind of worried about him. He often takes full advantage of Starfleet's 'beverage service,' but he seems a little far gone for the party having just begun."
Kathryn's concern over her young friend had served one useful purpose, however. She had missed the longing stare the dark haired man with graying temples gave her from across the room. Chakotay hadn't missed the look, nor the one the man sent his way. He met his eyes momentarily, then turned to usher Kathryn and himself further into the room, and in the opposite direction.
Almost as if she had read his thoughts, she asked, "Have you seen Mark?"
"Um, yes. He's on the other side of the room."
"Do you think we should just go talk to him? Get it over with?" she was hoping he'd convince her the thought was illogical, but he seemed to be considering it.
"Maybe it would be for the best," he said, but she heard the uncertainty in his voice as well.
"I don't want to do this," she whispered, "but I suppose it has to be done. I'll go first. You can join us in a minute." It was a command, not an option. Taking a glass of champagne, she downed it in one gulp then took another as she headed in the direction Chakotay had indicated.
Mark watched her approach. She looked radiant. Unfortunately. Why wasn't she suffering as he had? How could she look so happy and so miserable at the same time? He knew where the misery came from. It was her impending encounter with him. He didn't have to wonder where her radiance came from. Seeing them side-by-side, even across the room, he could sense the sustenance each gave the other, lending each other the strength to face the crowd, to face him.
He wondered if he and Kathryn had ever exuded such an aura. He had always thought they had been perfectly suited to one another, but it was nothing like the emotions he felt emanating from the two of them. Perhaps he was hyper-sensitive to their exchanged glances, as no one else seemed to think there was anything untoward about their behavior. There was no gossip going around the room about the Captain and the Commander, how they stood closer than necessary, or their ease in the others company. After all, they were colleagues, and had worked closely for the last five months.
Mark was almost disappointed no one else saw what he saw, knew what he now knew for a fact. There would be no tearful apology for the way she had treated him. No begging him to take her back because she had made a terrible mistake. That what she had mistaken for love was really lust, a reaction to the finality of marriage. He went to sleep nightly to such fantasies. It was the only way he could sleep, when he did.
But now, all that had changed. In a matter of moments, all his hopes had been shattered. There would be no return. There would be no begging forgiveness, which of course he would have granted, just to have her in his arms once more. One look at the two of them together was all it had taken to confirm his deepest fear.
"Hello, Mark," she said simply.
"Kathryn." he nodded curtly. She hadn't expected him to be excited to see her, she thought, but he never called her "Kathryn." It probably wasn't a good sign.
He looked like hell. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he'd lost weight. He had a tendency towards huskiness, but he was definitely underweight now. What did she say to him? Did she tell him how bad he looked and she was sorry for what she had put, and was still putting, him through? As if the timing were orchestrated, Owen Paris walked up to the uncomfortable couple. She knew he had to have heard of their break-up, so she was shocked to hear him say,
"It's good to see the two of you together again. Put all this nonsense about not seeing each other behind you?" Kathryn's mouth dropped open. He was serious! She couldn't believe the insensitivity of the man before her. She never would have thought Owen could be so tactless.
Mark stepped in, saving her. "No, Kathryn just stopped by to say 'hello.'"
Continuing to put his foot into it, Owen said, "Can't you see what you're doing to him? Look at him! He's a wreck!" Kathryn remained speechless.
"Owen. . ." Mark started, but the Admiral cut him off.
"I didn't think you were capable of such behavior, Kathy. What could you possibly be thinking?" Kathryn shot a look at Mark. Apparently he hadn't told the Paris' about the nature of the break-up, and for that she was truly grateful. She hoped he read that in her eyes. He had known her so well once, surely he must sense her gratitude now.
"Owen," Mark said again, "I really don't think this is the place to be having this conversation. In fact, I don't see there is ever a place to discuss this. It's between Kathryn and me, and frankly, none of your business."
He had come to her rescue again, saying the words she was unable to, to a senior officer, whether they were off duty or not. She had never been so close to tossing a glass of champagne into the face of another person, let alone a superior officer. If she wouldn't have been busted down to Ensign, she probably would have done it.
She had yet to say a word to him. Could he be drunk? Why else would he have been so callous? Surely he didn't think he was *helping* the situation? And why was Tom so upset? She knew they never saw eye-to-eye on things, but he'd never gotten drunk like she'd seen him tonight. If he didn't straighten up, Nechayev might re-think his assignment, there were certainly enough officers on the waiting list for *Voyager*. Among them, her aide, Harry Kim. She was still hoping to find a slot for him somewhere on the ship. That is if she could convince Nechayev.
Using all her self-control she said, hoarsely, "Admiral, if you'll excuse me. Mark." She walked away from the pair, reining in her urge to run across the room. She saw Chakotay talking to his counter-part from Admiral Nechayev's office, and he gave her a look of apology, for not joining her in her confrontation with Mark. She was imminently relieved he hadn't, for if Owen would have picked up on their relationship, in the state he was in, it would have spelled disaster.
"Excuse me, Commander," she spoke to the man opposite Chakotay, "But I need to have a word with Commander Chakotay."
"Of course Captain," he said, giving her a slight bow as he turned to leave.
"Kathryn? What's wrong? Did Mark. . . "
"No, he came to my rescue, actually." She said, trying to calm down and appear as if she were enjoying the party. "I'll tell you, but not here. I need to get some air. I'm sorry to abandon you, but I can't be in the same room as him right now."
"Mark?" Chakotay asked again.
"No, Admiral Paris."
Chakotay was about to speak when she said, "please don't follow me, I've created enough of a stir. I'll be back in a moment." She gave him a shaky smile and headed towards the entrance, just as she heard Owen calling her name.
"Kathy! Kathryn!" he called out, making his way through the crowd. Chakotay had the urge to deter him from his goal, to protect Kathryn from further upset, but he knew what her reaction would be. She wouldn't have appreciated him trying to fight her battles for her. Instead, he watched as the Admiral called out to Janeway's receding back.
"Kathryn!" he said again, as he reached out and touched her arm. She shook his hand off and said, without turning,
"Excuse me Admiral, but I don't have anything to say to you at the moment."
"I know. I'm sorry," he said. There was genuine pain in his voice, causing her to turn around. "I can't excuse my behavior," he stated. "I don't know what came over me."
Kathryn stopped her flight from the room, arms crossed, waiting for him to continue.
Owen ran a hand through his graying hair and sighed. "It has absolutely nothing to do with you or Mark," he said. "I was angry and you two were there. I had no right to say the things I did."
"No, you didn't," she replied, amazed at her candor with a superior. She noted the grief on his face. This was more than remorse over a *faux pas* with friends. Uncrossing her arms, she found herself releasing her anger. "Owen, what's wrong? This just isn't like you."
"I'll get through it," he said, regretting having let her see more than he intended.
"I'm sure you will, you've lived through incarceration at the hands of the Cardassians, everything else pales by comparison," she said, speaking from her own first hand knowledge. She and the Admiral had been held for a short time during her first mission, and it was one of the experiences that forged their friendship.
Owen smiled slightly, and said, "I suppose when you put it like that, this is pretty trivial."
"Does this have something to do with why Tom's in such a state?"
The Admiral's head rose to look her in the eye. "I didn't realize I was so transparent."
"Tom seems pretty upset too, it just stands to reason . . ."
"That we've had an argument? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you saw it," he said. "We're not exactly famous for our father-son relationship."
Kathryn gently pulled him in the direction of the entrance and suggested, "let's go somewhere a little quieter."
Owen was about to hesitate, but he knew she wouldn't be put off, and he'd rather not talk about Tom where they could be overheard. They wandered down the corridor until they came to a science lab. Entering, Kathryn called for lights, and settled against a desk, waiting for him to elaborate.
"He stopped by the house for dinner tonight. We had agreed to beam up together, and I thought maybe we could have a pleasant evening for once. He kept getting interrupted by signals for incoming messages, which he took privately, then would return, looking upset, but attempting to cover it up with his sarcasm. By the third message, I had had enough and asked him what it was all about. He gave me a lame excuse about trying to co-ordinate some going away party, but I knew what it was; I'd seen it before when his gambling got out of hand. The messages were threats against him to pay his debts or face the consequences."
Owen moved restlessly around the room as he continued his narrative. "So we got into it. I told him how disappointed I was that he'd gone back to gambling, and how he was going to ruin his chance for the greatest advancement to his career." He smiled then and continued,
"He's always admired you, Kathy, and I know he's wanted to serve with you. I really thought that would keep him in line. But lately, every chance he gets, he beams over to Sandrine's and ends up on the losing end of some bet. I don't know what to do with him anymore. I don't want him to loose this opportunity!"
"And it wouldn't look too good on the family record, either," Kathryn observed, crossing over to him. "I know you're concerned about him, as a father, but be honest. Aren't you also concerned about the slur to the Paris name?"
Owen started to protest, but she forged on. "I'm not blaming you, Owen. I know what your good name means to you, but maybe you're being a little too hard on him."
"Are you going to tell me his gambling is a bid for my attention? I know all the obvious psychological theories, Kathryn. If I *weren't* interested in his well-being, would I be so upset about the possibility of his missing the opportunity?"
Kathryn could see there was no arguing with him. He had a blind spot where Tom was concerned. She'd always known that, seen the pressure he'd placed his son under to be the best. Better than the best. He was an excellent Pilot, but how much was natural talent and how much the product of an over-zealous parent?
"I'll have a talk with Tom," she said. "Maybe a little chat from his future Captain will help."
"I'd be grateful, Kathy. And again, I'm sorry about Mark. Both for the way I acted and that things didn't work out. If you ever feel like talking about it, I'd like to return the favor."
"Maybe someday," she said. "Shall we return to the party? They're probably looking for us by now. I'm sure Mark must be due to give his speech."
Owen held out his arm and she accepted it with a smile. She was glad *that* was over. She wasn't in a position to be making enemies with the Brass just before leaving on her mission. But that wasn't the only reason she was relieved. Owen Paris had unofficially taken her father's place as a parental advisor, and she didn't want to lose that.
*********
Chakotay watched Kathryn and the Admiral leave the Holodeck. He was worried over her, but she looked a little more relaxed as they entered the hallway. This was between her and Paris, and he would just have to wait until she was ready to talk about it.
"It's not easy, is it?" Hearing a man's voice behind him, Chakotay knew immediately who had spoken.
Turning around, he asked, "what isn't?"
"Watching her go to face an unpleasant situation, and knowing you can do nothing to help her through it," Mark answered.
Chakotay looked at his half-filled champagne glass, and resisted the urge to empty it. "No, it isn't," he replied, cautious of the man's motives.
"Missions were the hardest," Mark confessed. "Knowing she's heading into God-knows-what, wondering if every message that arrived is going to be the one from Starfleet saying, 'they regret to inform.' I know she's the best of the best, but it doesn't make her immortal."
Chakotay didn't know what to say to Mark's disclosure.
"Of course, it'll be easier for you, you'll be at her side, won't you?"
"Yes," Chakotay managed, staring at the haunted man before him, knowing he would have faired no better, had their positions been reversed.
"At least you love her," Mark said quietly, looking down at his own empty glass. "I don't think I could bear it if you didn't." He took a deep breath and locked his gaze with Chakotay's once more, his voice almost eerily calm.
"I know I don't seem like an imposing man, Commander, but believe me when I tell you; if you hurt her, you *will* regret it."
"I won't hurt her." Chakotay simply stated. He still didn't know what to say to Mark. He certainly couldn't gloat. Kathryn's love hadn't been a prize in a contest between them. If there had been any other option, he would have taken it. Chakotay hadn't wanted his happiness to depend on Mark's misery.
Mark straightened up, exuding an air of dignity few in his position could have mustered. "One more thing," he said as he turned to leave, "I want you to know this pretense of civility was for Kathryn's benefit only. As you can well imagine, how you feel doesn't matter to me."
Chakotay's guts ached as surely as if Mark had punched him. Perhaps more so. Physical soreness would fade, he couldn't say the same for the words.
*********
Kathryn joined Chakotay as Mark was ascending the to the podium. Using the applause to mask his query, he spoke into her ear,
"Everything okay?"
"Yes, but I think I need to have a talk with Tom as well. I'll explain later," she said, joining in the accolades for the speaker.
Mark began with the historic significance of the name *Voyager*, detailing the proud ships and space probes that had been graced with the designation. He moved on to a short history of Starfleet in general, emphasizing, that, not only was the name *Voyager* synonymous with pioneering adventure, but of scientific discovery as well. And it was in this spirit, the Flagship of Starfleet was christened.
Chakotay was impressed with Mark's speech. He had no doubt the man would be eloquent, but the way he wove the philosophies of Starfleet and the principles of the Federation together was impressive. He was casual, relaxed before the crowd, much more so than he had been with him, only moments earlier.
"We're on," Kathryn whispered to Chakotay, interrupting his thoughts. As quickly as they could, they worked their way to the front of the crowd, to be ready when she was presented with a facsimile of the plaque that would grace the Bridge.
"And if I could have Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, and Admiral Nechayev join me," Mark said, almost as if he were working the crowd, "we can get this over with and go back to the party!" A chuckle went through the room as Mark extended a hand to Kathryn, although she didn't need it. It was a symbolic gesture, and she accepted his help for that reason alone. He offered the same kindness to Nechayev as well. Kathryn stood in the center, between the Admiral and Chakotay, as Mark stepped to the side. Admiral Nechayev smiled as she addressed the gathering.
"It has long been a naval and Starfleet tradition to have plaques of commemoration placed on the Bridges of ships, and *Voyager* will continue in this legacy. I'd like to read what the Admiralty has offered this ship by way of dedication: In the words of the poet, Alfred, Lord Tennyson,
For I dipped into the future,
far as the human eye could see,
saw the vision of the world,
and all the wonder that would be.
"This is the epitome of what Starfleet hopes for *Voyager*, and on their behalf, I present, you, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, with a copy of the plaque that will define your journey."
More applause went up as Kathryn accepted the plaque from Nechayev. She knew she was expected to make an acceptance speech, but hadn't formally prepared a response. She found any preconceived ideas she had left her the minute she were in the limelight. Mark on the other hand, would practice for hours, and be assured of a flawless performance. She was better off being extemporaneous. She wasn't as articulate as Mark, but she made up for it with genuine feeling.
"Thank you, thank you all," Kathryn said, waiting for the applause to end, to continue. "I'm afraid I'm not the speaker Mr. Johnson is, but I will say this from my heart. The honor you have bestowed upon me, by naming me the Captain of *Voyager*, has been the most significant moment of my career. I can not tell you what an privilege it is to stand before you this evening and accept this commission. Together with Commander Chakotay," she said, looking in his direction, "I promise to live up to the ideals set forth by Starfleet and the Federation, and that we will endeavor to be successful in our mission. Thank you." The crowd applauded again as the participants left the small stage.