Still on the run.
I suppose that's how I always thought of Chakotay after our arrival home. He never settled, hadn't before Voyager, hadn't on Voyager. I saw no reason to assume he would after Voyager.
I was blind. Captain's gaffe translated into Admiral's gaffe.
I could've easily disproven my theory before it settled in, naturally, could've looked him up, asked the right people at Starfleet where he was and what he was doing. They knew. He lived in the shadow of his former betrayal, and wasn't about to be allowed to forget it. Starfleet watched him. It didn't crimp his style, not from what I've recently learned.
I rediscovered him through a third party, an innocent third party, at your typical Academy commencement. I had given the speeches before, one of my least favorite roles as returned hero, but I gave them. Vowed that one would be my last.
Not so typical. The ceremony brought in a new year, old Earth standard, the scheduling seemed a romantic touch, to those Terran enough to recognize the significance.
The third party...not Terran, but of humanity. Her eyes were shining, moist beacons as she took in the fireworks. She stood among the cadets, wearing her new Ensign's bars gracefully. Her height caught me at first, a good couple of inches above your average young woman. The features drove the stake in next. Straight, dark hair piled neatly, offsetting pale skin. Her eyes were blue, Nordic blue, and her lips were his, softened. Her smile his, brightened.
The naggling familiarity might've been brushed off, I was quite good at it, had it not been for my sighting of Tom Paris. B'Elanna Torres. The Doctor. Tuvok. Harry. Hell, the whole damned crew, watching her as if she were some sort of descending queen as she shook my hand and strode off the stage hours later. To my eternal credit, I didn't blink, continued the ceremony, turned out a fine group of unscarred Ensigns for the Fleet.
I caught Tuvok backstage, touched his arm. "Don't try to pass her off as your collective holiday orphan."
He merely nodded. "You did not note her name, Admiral?"
Well, no, I hadn't. I'd been busy biting my tongue.
He sighed, barely, and took me aside. "Ensign Ysalane Hansen. Born and raised in the former demilitarized zones, a colony world. Chakotay serves as civilian liason to Starfleet there, and Lieutenant Commander Annika Hansen as colony commander. The colony in itself draws little attention, I would not expect you to know of it."
Nothing nicer than a double-edged remark from a Vulcan. Mind your fleet, Admiral, and forget your friends. Something to that effect. I ignored him. "Are Chakotay and Seven present?"
"I believe Chakotay is." His gaze settled on me, all Vulcan warning. "Commander Hansen could not be spared from duty."
"Tuvok, go serve the punch." It was as tart a retort I could manage, and one I already knew wouldn't faze him. "I simply want to give my congratulations, and catch up. You apparently came for the same reason."
"Ysalane is my goddaughter." I swear, he got sharper as he got older. "Not to attend would be impolite. Illogical. I am an aquaintance from her childhood."
And I wasn't.
I left him then, with a shoulder pat, before I got myself into more trouble with Vulcan verbal sparring than it was worth. Ysalane had faded into a corner, adjusting her uniform neck for the new rank bar, and...none other than the devil himself was helping. He was older, greyer, and it seemed a heartbreakingly paternal moment. I almost walked away. Almost. His upward glance caught me, stunned, wary, embarassed. Giving the collar one last tug, the Ensign straightened, following his glance and snapping to attention so quickly she had to use him for balance. "Admiral." Her tones were low, soft, husky, not unlike either of her parents.
"Ensign Hansen." Did I emphasize the name? Perhaps. He straightened as well, meeting my gaze with the same formality as a current Starfleet officer would've. "I wanted to offer my personal congratulations. Your parents were both valued members of my crew at one time."
Damn. That hadn't sounded right, and I knew it. Chakotay had shaken off the discomfort, brow climbing. Ysalane merely nodded, formally, eyes dancing to take in both of us. "They've spoken well of you, Admiral Janeway."
"Sala." Chakotay's timbre broke the platitudes. "Paris wanted me to direct you his way."
"I'll go now. Excuse me, ma'am." She nodded quick recognition of the dismissal, walking back into the crowd.
I turned back to Chakotay, meeting his gaze. "Fine young offering to the sacrificial cause."
He nodded, eyes sparkling. "I tried to convince her not to do it. You know these kids today..."
Enough. "You should have told me, Chakotay. I could have been there. No recruit from the colonies has an easy way of it..." "She got by on her own merits." His eyes flickered with disappointment. "No petting by an Admiral. She had all the support net she needed...friends, family. We raised her not to do anything less."
"I'm sure you did." Taunt. When had I become so vituperative, I didn't want to be. I tried for levity. "The fireworks are starting up again."
He caught my gaze, brows furrowing. "Indeed."
We walked then, slipping away from the crowds, past Tuvok's probing gaze, beyond Torres headshake. "You daughter seems to have it all in front of her, Chakotay. But then, how could I expect anything else? She had all the Starfleet support she needed. Her mother, colony commander."
"Kathryn, don't."
And I didn't. I couldn't stop myself from the sarcasm, heaven knows, but he certainly still had the power. "Tell your wife I'm proud of her. I mean that, no buts attached."
"I believe you. So will she." He stopped us then, taking my elbow and guiding me to a solitary bench, hidden among the trees. Not wholly unlike the New Zealand penitentary grounds that long ago day, familiar enough to draw a smile. "Getting her to accept a commission was a feat of itself, but once she agreed, she found it satisfying. With the colony, Seven has just enough command and freedom to suit her nature."
"No attempt at a starship?"
"No starship for either of us, Kathryn." He shook his head. "We had our share. Dirt and dust and a solid planet under our heels. All we wanted."
"I admire that ease with nature and settling." And I did. Even after Voyager had arrived home, there had been no golden rest stop for me...just constant moving, constant change, immersion in the rat race. Our core differences, right there, I suppose. His very roots had led him back to the life he had once abandoned, Seven's experiences with the colder facets of technology and progress, likewise. My childhood, growing up, entire existence had groomed me to be the constant stargoer, the eternal officer. And I was. Not a bitter realization, no, just a resigned one. We could never have made it together. Not without destroying the best of each other. "But why give up the commission? Why not go for a planetary co-op?"
His glance was wry. "I'm not Starfleet, Kathryn. Never really was, though I did a fine job of thinking so as a youth. Being a civilian has given me a great many thing retaining Starfleet never would have...the freedom to attend my daughters commissioning, for instance. When I left the colony, Seven was knee deep in problems and frustrated as hell, but she couldn't be spared. It's her responsibility. Ysalane happens to be mine when Starfleet says Seven isn't available."
Touche. The silence immediately chilled, but he broke in awkwardly. "Come visit sometime. Sala's first leave will be in a few months. She'd like to get to know you. You influenced her."
"Perhaps." Ensign Hansen seemed too bright, too glowing, to have formed herself in my likeness. I had never looked or felt that self-confident. Go have coffee with eyes of past and might have been absorbing my disintegration? No, I hadn't been very good at visitations of late, the rest of them were proof of that. My former crew was quite the family. Without the captain holding them together. So it should remain.
"I see." His gaze said very well that he knew I wouldn't come, wouldn't contact. Sadness, there, and regret, mirrored in my own emotions. Distantly, a klaxon blared, startling us apart. His smile dipped. "Welcome to the twenty-fifth century, Kathryn." He stood, grandly offering a hand, pulling me up, saluting. "Admiral."
"Chakotay." It was a hollow dismissal for a hollow leavetaking, but at least the tension, the nagging question, regret was gone. We had seen the shape of what we had become. Quite enough. The past-best left there, where the colder facets of life need never intrude upon warmer memory.
The fireworks faded.
I don't know if he looked back after taking the approaching Ysalane's elbow and walking away.
To my eternal amazement, I did not.
