A Star Trek: Voyager Short Story
By Adrian Hilton
Braga's TV was a forty inch plasma screen that hung above his fireplace. The cabling to a state-of-the-art stereo system turned his living room into an extremely comfortable, if compact, home cinema. Unfortunately this time the sound clarity detracted from his already minimal enjoyment of the Voyager episode.
The phone rang. He ignored it.
Lips moving soundlessly, he followed the dialogue. Only minutes remained before Voyager changed forever... For a moment a wild impulse seized him, and his hand started to move towards the phone. He could imagine his side of the conversation.
"Ted? Brannon. Pull the plug on Voyager."
"Yes, dammit, I know it's the end of the series. I mean this episode. Right now."
"NO! I don't care what the lawyers will say! Can it! Now!"
Then he thought of the "conversation" with the JetC mob, hanging by his ankles, and his hand was jerked sharply away. Instead he took a reinforcing swig from the glass of bourbon and refocused on the screen.
Chakotay found his way out of the airport with little difficulty, shaking hands with Ted to bid him farewell. The warm Indiana sunshine made him glad for the sunglasses, but he felt welcome in the state. He wondered how long that would last...
The taxi rank was nearly empty, but no-one else seemed to want to use it. He rapped on the window of the first cab in line. The tinted glass sank into the doorframe and a teenager's face grinned at him.
"Hey, Mister. Where ya' going?"
Chakotay dug in his jacket pocket for the address that B'Elanna had given him. The youth took the piece of card, and his eyebrow raised as he read it. He looked at Chakotay again -- Chakotay could feel his tattoo coming under scrutiny. "Well, hop in, Commander."
Chakotay heaved his duffel bag into the back and climbed into the shotgun seat. He felt bound to correct the title. "I'm not in Starfleet any more, I don't have a rank."
The young man pulled his vehicle out of the rank with no more than a cursory glance at the road, dodging through the light traffic oblivious of the sharp decelerations he was causing. "Yeah, but you are that guy off Voyager, right?" The cab swung off onto a ramp, avoiding a heavy goods transport by a matter of a metre or so. Chakotay fastened the seatbelt, made a brief prayer to his ancestors in the fervent hope of not joining them in the next half hour, and tried to deflect the questions.
"Well, one of them..." It wasn't a very good answer, and they both knew it. He tried to gain the advantage. "How did you know?"
"That's Miss Kathryn's address you gave me," the driver grinned. "We're kinda proud to have her live here, our town's own superheroine. Our college astro-navigation course is trying to get her to come do a lecture for us." He let go of the steering column and scrabbled around in the glovebox while the vehicle wobbled over the road and Chakotay tried not to cringe. Finding what he sought, he dropped a PADD in Chakotay's lap and resumed steering.
Chakotay had seen any number of variations on the news story displayed by the PADD. "Kathryn's Return -- local-born Starfleet Captain returns Voyager after seven-year Delta Quadrant mission." He glanced down the story, not noting anything new. But one omission struck him.
"She's not giving any interviews, then?"
"Not that I saw," shrugged the driver -- his Indiana license card, clipped to the dash, named him Wendell Tyler. "For a month now everyone's been trying to get her to talk, but she doesn't want to know. Her mom and sister have been keeping the press away." He shot a sharp glance at Chakotay. "What are you here for, then?"
"Just tidying up some loose ends." Chakotay hoped that his tone would dissuade Wendell from further questions. This worked for a while, until the cab turned into the road that ran up to the Janeway house.
"This is it, man." Wendell pulled over, well short of the house itself. "Hope you don't mind a short hike -- there's a road crew in the way." Sure enough, three workmen were cutting trenches in the tarmac surface just up the road.
Chakotay swiped his card and added a sizeable tip. "Wendell, just as a favor, if anyone asks then you never saw me, let alone drove me here. Okay?"
"Sure," grinned Wendell, happy to be included in a conspiracy. "You have a good one. And say hi to Miss Kathryn for me."
"I'll do that." Chakotay pulled his bag out of the back and started up the road. Behind him Wendell wrenched the cab around in a sharp turn and accelerated back towards the airport.
The house was a couple hundred metres up the road, and the sunshine made it a warm walk. Chakotay was still working out, but he could feel himself start to sweat as he approached the road crew.
The engineers there noticed his approach; the two burning the trench edges with a laser torch nodded briefly before turning back to their work, keen to avoid removing their toes, but the theodolite operator stared hard at him. He nodded an acknowledgement and started to walk around the work area, but she moved out to block him.
"Excuse me; aren't you Commander Chakotay?"
Chakotay was in no mood to be recognised. He didn't quite lie. "No, I'm not."
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm mistaken." The engineer, who on closer inspection appeared to have too delicate a complexion for an engineer with an outdoors job, pulled a PADD out of her vest. "That tattoo's pretty distinctive, you know. I'm Laurie Schleyer, Gary Gazette. Can I ask you a few questions?"
Chakotay stared at her for a moment. Then his gaze went to the theodolite, which was -- he realised belatedly -- pointing directly at the Janeway house. His voice went cold.
"I'm not interested." He stepped around Laurie and strode off towards the house.
Laurie ran after him. "C'mon, Commander, give me a break. Everyone's dying to know more about what happened in the Delta Quadrant, how you got back, what Rear-Admiral Janeway's going to do now, what's going to happen with Seven of Nine..." She dodged in front of him again. "Just a few words. Hell, off the record if you want."
Chakotay looked at the young woman. "First -- I'm not a Commander any more. Second -- the Voyager story will come out when Starfleet is ready to release it and you'll just have to wait in line. Third -- I don't like spies who harass people I respect, so if you think I'm going to grant you any favors then you're on drugs. Now get out of my way."
Laurie, to her credit, stood her ground. "Look Comm- Chakotay, all I want to do is talk to Kathryn Janeway. I've not published any photos of her, and I don't intend to do so -- not without her permission, anyway. But she's big news across the Quadrant, she's a local girl, and we're proud as hell of her. I don't want to ruin her life, I want to give her a way to tell the people around her about what she's done."
"And this is because you're a philanthropist, of course," said Chakotay sarcastically.
Laurie put her hands on her hips. "What's your problem, Chakotay? You spent years with the Maquis fighting the Cardassians, and the news media brought you more recruits than you could have dreamed of. We told your story to the Galaxy and asked for nothing in return. Now you're not willing to spend five minutes of your time telling one journalist about something that could inspire millions of people. What do you want, blood?" She stuffed the PADD back in her vest with shaking hands. "Piss off then, live your life in a box, see if I care." She trudged back to the road crew.
Chakotay resumed his trudge up the road. He made about ten yards before slowing to a halt.
Laurie was back at the theodolite, fiddling with the tuning controls and blinking back tears when she heard footsteps approaching again. She looked up.
"I'm sorry." Chakotay handed her an address card. "Give me a call in a couple of days; I promise I'll tell you what I can about Voyager. Off the record though."
Laurie smiled for the first time. "One day someone's going to have to tell Kathryn Janeway how lucky she was with her first officer."
"I'll be sure to tell her." Chakotay turned and headed back to the house.
The front yard was small but well-kept, beds of colorful flowers edging the lawn and a winding gravel path leading up to the door. Chakotay kept himself focused on the doorbell, keeping his eyes from wandering to any of the windows. Turning up unannounced on his Captain's doorstep was bad enough without appearing to be a Peeping Tom.
With trepidation he pressed the doorbell. Seconds later a shape appeared in the door's frosted glass panel. The door latch clicked, and it swung open.
"Chakotay?"
Kathryn lounged against the breakfast bar, waiting for the kettle to boil. Phoebe, fully dressed and looking disapprovingly at her sister's dressing gown and slippers, was cooking up waffles.
"Annika not up yet?" she asked her older sister.
"I haven't seen her. I think she's still getting used to sleeping normally." Kathryn peered out of the window into the yard. "Mom's still keeping the garden immaculate, I see."
Phoebe piled food onto a plate and pushed it at Kathryn. "Waffles, crispy, and bacon, greasy, just what the doctor ordered." She fixed herself cereal and took the seat opposite.
"Katy, what are you going to do now?"
"What do you mean?" Kathryn was working hard on her breakfast.
"You've been home the past few weeks and you've done nothing. I know you probably want to clear your head and have a rest after all you've been through, but it's not like you to turn into a vegetable all of a sudden."
"Maybe I've got tired."
"Katy!" Kathryn looked up, startled. "I'm your sister, goddammit. I know that there's something going on. The letter from Starfleet -- it's all round the township that you've been made a Rear-Admiral, but you've not told me, or Mom."
Kathryn poked at her waffle. "Phoebe, I appreciate your concern, but it's nothing to do with you. I don't even know whether I want to go back to Starfleet. The promotion might not matter."
Phoebe gaped for a moment, searching for words. She found them. "Katy, you're a -- "
The doorbell rang.
Kathryn jumped on the distraction. "Who could that be?"
Annika had regained her composure after a hard hour in her room. When the Doctor had finally figured out how to bypass her emotion limiter she had - appropriately - rejoiced. Up to that point she had always felt cut off from the rest of the crew, except perhaps Tuvok and Vorik. Whenever the crew celebrated she could only perceive the reasons, not share in the emotion.
Then she had rediscovered the dark side of unfettered emotions...
She longed to talk to Tuvok, to seek his guidance on reining in feelings. By now, though, he was with his family on Vulcan - and no doubt trying to adjust to being a grandfather. She was going to have to learn to control her heart the hard way.
She had managed to clean herself up, removing every trace of the tears. Her dermal regenerator, a present from the Doctor, allowed her to hide even the red marks of pain around her eyes. Now, a hold on her emotions regained, she was going downstairs to meet Kathryn.
Her Captain's noisy morning bathroom activities had brought a smile to her, even in her suffering. Not many people, even from Voyager, knew of Kathryn's propensity for trying out opera parts in the sonic shower. Fewer had been privileged to hear them at close quarters; fewer still had survived without permanent hearing impairment. The Doctor still talked with awe of the time that he had connected to the Captain's bathroom videoscreen (to deliver an urgent message, he assured the audience) and heard a lusty attempt at Susanna's part of Se a caso Madama la notte ti chiama from "Marriage of Figaro." A keen aesthete, he likened the experience to watching Tom Paris operating the dermal regenerator; plenty of enthusiasm, but variable accuracy, and inducing intense sympathy for the victim. After listening to the Doctor's show-stopping imitation of the Captain, Annika was inclined to agree.
The Doctor had advised her that when feeling sad it sometimes helped to think of something that made one smile. As she descended the stairs she hummed this morning's massacring of "The Houses of K'Plakh", Act 4. The doorbell interrupted at a crucial moment, and she frowned, but changed course to open it. She was the closest to the door, it was the efficient thing to do.
Chakotay recognised the proud bearing even as the door latch clicked open. By then, of course, it was far too late.
"Chakotay..." Annika froze as his face appeared.
They might have stayed like that a long time had Gretchen not come running out of the kitchen. One glance at Chakotay's face told her everything she needed to know about her daughter. A glance at Annika's face told her enough that she knew that instant action was required.
"Hello, Chakotay. B'Elanna said that you might be coming over. Kathryn's not dressed yet, I'm afraid, but she's got the logs loaded in the living room terminal if you want to make a start?"
Chakotay blinked as the fast ball sped towards him, but managed a catch. "Thanks, that'd be great. Kathryn still hasn't cracked the early rising thing, then?" His eyes flicked back to the petrified Annika. Gretchen noticed.
"Annika, could you give Phoebe a hand in the kitchen? I think Kathryn's burned the waffles." Sure enough, there was a tinge of carbon in the air.
Annika pulled herself away from staring at Chakotay and headed to the kitchen. Gretchen ushered Chakotay into the living room and pulled the door to.
Â"Chakotay, what's happened between you and Annika? B'Elanna didn't say anything to me about it. And I figure we have about ten minutes before a fully dressed Kathryn makes an appearance, so if there's anything I should know then now would be a great time to say."
Chakotay's day was turning out to be a real rollercoaster. He wasn't sure how many more surprises he could take.
"Annika and I used to be together. It didn't work out, and she was pretty badly hurt when it ended. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that she was here; she's always been close to Kathryn. I'm sorry that you got caught in the middle."
Gretchen waved her hand. "It's not important. I can look after Annika. Can you look after my daughter?"
Chakotay shrugged. "I'll try -"
"You have to," Gretchen cut him off. "She's dying a slow death right now. Everything she's wanted for the past seven years has come true; she doesn't know what to want anymore. You have to give her something to live for."
"That's a tall order," Chakotay said. "For seven years I've lived to protect Kathryn, from others and sometimes from herself. Now you're asking me to change places with her, to take the lead and tell her where to go. You may have noticed, Kathryn can be - headstrong?"
"You mean 'impossible'," chuckled Gretchen. "Go on."
"I'm willing," Chakotay admitted. "But she may not be. And if so, I don't think I - or anyone else - will be able to change her mind."
"I won't blame you if it doesn't work," Gretchen assured him. "All I ask is for you to do all you can - "
Gretchen paused for a moment, head cocked to the side. Before Chakotay knew it the door was open, Kathryn had been pulled inside and Gretchen had slipped out. The door closed, and they were alone.
The snick of the door lock caused Kathryn's head to snap around. She lunged for the handle, but repeated rattlings failed to unlock it.
"I don't think your mom is just going to let you out now, after all the trouble she's been to," offered Chakotay mildly. He winced as Kathryn's glare hit him.
"You set all this up," she accused.
Chakotay's conscience was clear on this at least. "No; you're half-right though. It is a set-up. I'm just an innocent party."
"Names," she snapped.
"Chakotay, Commander. Only the one name. Maquis service number 0..." Kathryn shut him up with a wave of her hand, a trick she'd had seven years to perfect.
"Cut the crap, Chakotay. Who was it? Phoebe? I'll hang her over the bannister by her ankles..."
"It's nice to see that spark in your eyes," Chakotay smiled. "I was wondering if you'd forgotten how to do it." Kathryn's glare ratcheted up to 90% power.
"You might want to look in the direction of your Chief Engineer," he offered. "But you're braver than I if you want to make a fight of it." To his relief, a smile rose over Kathryn's face.
"Dear B'Elanna. How are they doing?"
"Tom's turning into a model father. I never thought I'd see the day," admitted Chakotay. "Miral's a treasure, and B'Elanna fired a phaser at a student on her first day of lecturing and got away with it."
"Set on 'kill', or 'stir fry'?"
"Stun. B'Elanna's getting soft."
"Not that soft if she's managed to put all this together." Kathryn fell onto the sofa and kicked her legs onto a handy ottoman. "Have a seat and tell me what's going on here. Annika muttered something about command logs, but I don't believe that for a moment."
"Do you think that she believes it?" asked Chakotay quietly.
"Maybe." Kathryn searched his face for something. "I've not asked her what happened between you two. I think Mom has been talking with her, though. What do you want to tell me? You've not flown all the way to the back of beyond to make small talk. Don't tell me that Starfleet has offered to make you an Admiral and you're looking for referees?"
"I'm out of Starfleet, but while we're on the subject of Admirals..." Kathryn blushed and suddenly seemed very interested in her socks. They were quite nice ones, blue and white with embroidered bumblebees, but perhaps she was hiding something. Or hoping that it would go away.
Chakotay put her out of her misery. "I still know people in Starfleet. I hear things. Why haven't you accepted it? Great Spirit, you of all people deserve to be an Admiral."
"I don't know what I'd do," Kathryn admitted candidly. "Sit on my ass in Starfleet HQ, or on some Earth orbit station, and make decisions about promotions? Is that really me?"
"You could make Harry a Lieutenant, for a start," offered Chakotay. Kathryn laughed at that. "Or there are a few of my Maquis whose pardons need nudging through..."
"Chakotay! Are you suggesting that I'd make improper use of my position?" Chakotay didn't need to answer. Kathryn laughed again.
Gretchen, heading upstairs, passed Phoebe who was crouching with her ear to the keyhole. "Anything?"
"Laughter - sounds promising," said Phoebe optimistically. "How's Annika?"
"Your aunt's sloe gin is helping." Gretchen shook her head. "I don't know what we're going to do. I think Kathryn's the only one who could even start to fix things."
Kathryn and Chakotay had been verbally circling around one another for half an hour before Chakotay remembered his boxing training and closed in to end the match - on his terms.
"Kathryn, why don't you come back with me to San Francisco?"
"And tell Starfleet 'yes'? I still need some convincing about that."
Chakotay sighed in frustration. "It doesn't matter what you eventually tell Starfleet. You need to decide on your future career, sure enough. But I'm not asking about that."
Kathryn was uncharacteristically quiet. Chakotay pressed on.
"Kathryn, for seven years you've been a Captain to match any other. No-one on Earth could dispute that. You brought us home against all the odds. You were willing to give your own life to make that happen. I, every single person on Voyager, and a good fraction of the Delta Quadrant, have unending respect for Captain Janeway of Starfleet."
"But there was also Kathryn Janeway, a woman, on board the ship. Not many of us got to see her. Neelix, of course, Kes, Seven, B'Elanna - and me. For seven years everything she wanted came second to the needs of the Captain. But now you can let her free."
"What I'm asking you, Kathryn, is whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me, Chakotay, Angry Warrior, sometime Maquis and burgeoning sandwich slicer." He saw Kathryn's eyebrow start to rise, but pressed on. "I love you like I've loved no other in my life." He moved from his chair to kneel in front of her. "Will you take my heart as yours? Kathryn, will you marry me?"
Phoebe's keyhole-borne sob was thankfully masked by her sister's. Kathryn struggled with the words before they eventually made it out.
"Oh Chakotay, of course I will. For months I thought I'd lost you forever. I nearly died. I've never wanted anything or anyone so bad as I wanted you. When my stupid Starfleet pride lost you, I swore I'd never again let that happen. You've saved me from that. I'll take your heart, you take mine, and let nothing ever come between us."
The two of them had seven years to make up. They made a good start.
Chakotay finally pulled Kathryn up. "Come on, we'd better tell your mom." He led her out into the hallway, finding the door mysteriously unlocked.
Kathryn, something nagging at her mind, glanced back into the living room.
"When did that rug move in there?" she murmured idly.
Annika sat on the porch swing, gazing out into the garden as the falling sun spread long shadows across the yard. She cradled a cup of coffee - Gretchen had decided that there had been enough numbing, and that it was time for reality to be introduced.
The swing creaked as someone joined her. Annika gazed morosely at Kathryn's face. Nothing seemed appropriate to say right now.
"Hey, Annika." Kathryn's face was soft, but sad. "How's it going?"
"It's not been a good day," Annika finally admitted. "Chakotay didn't come to see you about command logs, did he?"
"No, he didn't." A silence fell. Kathryn decided that the whole truth was the only choice. "He asked me to marry him. I said yes."
"That's good." Annika sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. "You are well suited. You are a good person and," she swallowed, "so is he. You will be happy together."
"I hope so. We'll see." Kathryn could feel the pain radiating out from Annika. "I know this hurts you. I'm so sorry that you had to be involved this way. It's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out."
"I'm not sure there was a good way." Annika turned the cup in her hands. "I find this hard to understand. Everything in my head says that this is the right thing for everyone. Yet still it hurts so when I think about it."
She looked up at Kathryn. "Three years ago you had the first letters from Earth through the Hirogen array. You heard from Mark for the first time - he ended your engagement, and told you that he had found someone else. How did you cope with that?"
Kathryn thought for a moment. "It was hard, no denying that. Maybe it helped that I had Voyager to look after. And I guess that, deep down, I'd already expected it. It wasn't fair to expect him to wait."
"Nor was it fair to expect Chakotay to stay with me," Annika said quietly. "I think all of us knew that he wanted to be with you. I was selfish; I wanted him and didn't think of how it would hurt you. Now I suppose I'm paying the price."
Kathryn shook her head.
"Love doesn't work like that, Annika. Through the greatest good fortune you find someone you love, and who loves you in return. You can't stop yourself loving, or stop yourself wanting love."
She pointed out across the lawn to the fields which stretched to the horizon.
"Out there, somewhere, is the man with whom you'll be happy for the whole of your life. Neither you nor I know who he is, not yet. It's very unlikely that you'll meet him in the street tomorrow and fall instantly in love. But your friends will help you look, and they'll be there for you when times are rough."
Kathryn deftly took the cup from Annika and had an experimental swig.
"Not bad." She returned it, smiling at the mildly shocked look on Annika's face. "Now I know why I gave it up. First rule of the Janeway family - coffee's common property."
Annika still looked confused. Kathryn explained.
"Annika, when you first came on board Voyager I made it my goal to take you from the Borg back into the human race. To start with, it was the aim of the Captain. But after a while you started to make your own choices, and I guess I started to see you more as the daughter I never had. I wanted to raise you as my own."
"Daughters grow up, and you certainly did. You made friends in the crew and overcame problems with others. You adopted Icheb, Mezoti, Azan and Rebi, and learned how to be a mother. You risked your own safety for them and for the rest of the crew."
"It's no longer right for me to treat you as a daughter; you're a grown woman. But you're still family to me, and now to Mom and Phoebe too. We'd be awful pleased and proud if you would consider me and Phoebe as your sisters."
"And you'd make an old woman very happy if you'd let her be an honorary mom." Gretchen came out onto the deck, wrapped in a shawl. "What do you say?"
Annika didn't say anything, collapsing into Kathryn's lap in tears.
Gretchen peered into the living room on her way to bed. Kathryn was still there, typing away on the terminal and wearing the reading glasses that had been a welcome-back present from Phoebe.
"Kathryn? Still working?"
"I've a report to write." Kathryn saved the file and swung her chair around. "Chakotay persuaded me that it might be time to break my silence and throw some food to the hounds of the Press."
"He did? Can I have a read?" Gretchen tried to peer over Kathryn's shoulder but her view was quickly blocked.
"When I'm done." Kathryn's voice brooked no interference. She took a swig from the half-litre coffee mug parked on the table. "Are you off to bed?"
"Yes; it's been a long enough day. Annika's already asleep. Did Chakotay get back okay?"
"Yes, I got a mail from him twenty minutes ago. He's promised to have his apartment ship-shape by the time I arrive next weekend, and is already training his replicator to make my coffee blends." He'd also made a crack about securing the replicator so that coffee was the only thing she was able to make.
Gretchen eyed her daughter. "What are you going to tell Starfleet?"
Kathryn shrugged. "There are things that need to be done. Maybe I'm the person to do them. The only way I can find out is to try." She handed her mom the mail PADD. The message displayed bore the Starfleet seal and confirmed that Rear-Admiral Janeway was entitled to all privileges and responsibilities of rank as of 1800 hours today.
Gretchen hugged her daughter. "Does this mean I have to call you Ma'am now?" she teased.
"Only in a crunch. I'll let you know when it's crunch time, Mom."
Gretchen looked at the photograph on the mantelpiece; the teenage Kathryn and Phoebe, with their parents. "I think your Dad would have been very proud of you, Kathryn."
"Thanks, Mom. I'll try not to let either of you down."
Gretchen paused in the doorway on her way to the stairs. "I think I've finally got my daughter back. When you next see B'Elanna, give her a hug from me."
The news bulletin's last article was about a presentation at Gary University. Rear-Admiral Janeway had given a guest lecture on the stellar phenomena of the Delta Quadrant.
"I hate that dress uniform," Kathryn growled from the bed. "Makes me look a good ten years older."
"Don't tell me that you don't enjoy the extra respect due an old woman." Chakotay, resplendant in his Maquis shorts and little else, brought the breakfast tray over. "You want I should cut up your ham and eggs into bite-size pieces?" He dodged as Kathryn made a threatening move with the coffee mug. "What are you up to today?"
"Dry-dock inspection of the Illustrious. Should be good. They've retrofitted some of the ablative armour and upgraded the sensors to match Voyager's Astrometrics configuration."
"Illustrious - doesn't she have a certain Lt. Kim at Ops?" asked Chakotay, wrestling with a stubborn pair of pants.
"The very same. And he thinks that Nechayev is giving the inspection. I think I could grow to enjoy this job. Now if only they could fix it so that Admirals' husbands did their paperwork..."
"Sorry to disappoint," said Chakotay, shrugging on a shirt. "I've got plenty of paperwork of my own to do. The Maquis Memorial Trust gets audited next week and we'd better be whiter than white."
"I'll let you off, then." She checked her PADD. "I'm due back at 2000. Are you up to taking me to the dinner tonight?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Chakotay confirmed.
"Promise not to torment any Ensigns?"
"Absolutely not. What else are they there for?"
Kathryn grinned. "Bear in mind that Admirals have ways of avenging affronts to the dignity of their subordinates. Have a good day."
They kissed, then Chakotay left the apartment and headed out to his office. The sun was rising over the eastern edge of the Bay, lighting up the Golden Gate and warming the quiet streets as he made his way to work.
For a moment he paused at a crossing, looking back up to the windows of their apartment. A smile of happiness appeared, and he walked off towards the sunrise.
Brannon Braga turned off his TV and sighed. The phone rang. Already knowing who it was, he picked up. "Happy?"
"Very." The European voice certainly sounded cheerful, indeed on the edge of intoxication. Possibly hanging off the edge. With a very thin rope. "Did you ever come across the Voyager drinking game?"
"The what?" Braga's confusion was genuine.
"Never mind. Anyway, thank you. And admit it, you feel better about yourself now."
Braga, despite himself, laughed. "You JetC never give up, do you? It's not enough for you to win, you need everyone else to believe it was the right result. Ever read 1984?"
"Why Mr. Braga, I swear, you're almost a cultured man." He could hear the laugh in the voice. "Sweet dreams, Mr. Braga. Auf Wiedersehen." The phone clicked off.
Braga poured himself a bourbon. He checked his watch. Marianne should still be in the office. He hit the speed dial.
"Marianne? Call Pete. Get the Enterprise series plotlines on my desk first thing Monday." He rang off.
Deep in Germany, somebody laughed...
FINIS
Web pages maintained by Adrian Hilton
One fairer than my love! The all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.