Star Trek Voyager: Frontiers of Exile

Star Trek Voyager: Frontiers of Exile (Chapter 6)

Seven tried to stop the trepidation from rising inside her as the cable car drew to a halt outside its final stop and their destination, Starfleet Headquarters. Chakotay, sitting beside her, must’ve noticed though as his hand moved swiftly from his own knee to hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he said smilingly, “See, I told you cable cars are a much more pleasant ride than the shuttles you’re used to.” He teased her light-heartedly. One of Seven’s pet peeves since they’d come to live in this metropolis was the inefficiency, in her keen eyes at least, of the city’s public transport system.

Seven caught his eye, metallic eyebrow arched. If she’d been anyone else Chakotay would have expected her hands to shift to her hips, but that wasn’t her style. “The distance from our apartment to here isn’t so far as to need a shuttle.” She pointed out, “Although Tom Paris would probably argue that.” She added wryly, joining in when Chakotay laughed. “The name “cable car” is a misnomer however; these vehicles run on specialised tracks, not cables.”

“They used to though, when the system was first installed in the 19th and 20th Centuries. Everyone just keeps calling them cable cars for tradition’s sake.” Chakotay told her, “They have a section of the original network still working around the city museum. I’ll take you to see it sometime.”

“I’d like that.” Seven replied, flashing him a glimpse of a genuine smile, her first since they’d left the safety of their home that morning. They waited until the crowd had filed outside before following on themselves, Chakotay chivalrously clasping her hand as they made their way down the steps but instinctively gripping it tighter as the mighty bulk of Starfleet Headquarters came more fully into view. Seven sensed this change in mood and slid closer into his side as he took a deep breath, which was soon echoed by her before she pulled herself together. “They need us this time, which should mean that they make everything as smooth as possible for us.” She remarked stoically.

Chakotay glanced affectionately at her determined expression, as if she were bracing herself for battle, which he supposed they were, and drew strength from it. His multiple difficulties wading through Starfleet bias and bureaucracy after Voyager’s return had been insignificant compared to what Seven had experienced. Despite all the protection and help all of their former crew had tried to give her during their own interviews, Chakotay knew better than most that what she had gone through in those first couple of months was more akin to several intense interrogations than the civilised debriefings the Admiral had tried to secure for her. He never wanted her to go through that again, and if they started it today they’d be walking straight out. He had a feeling though that he was more offended by her treatment than she was, she’d accepted it with resignation and good grace that had finally forced Starfleet to regard her with true respect, happily given in a few quarters and begrudgingly in others. “You’re right, we’re here by choice and they need to remember that.” He looked at her seriously, “If you’re not happy with anything they propose then we’re staying right here.”

Seven leaned into the arm he’d naturally put around her as they walked. “The same goes for you, but I believe that the saying “let’s hope for the best” is applicable here.”

Chakotay grinned, chastising himself internally for being so gloomy about what should have been considered a wonderful opportunity. “It certainly is, let’s go. I have a feeling Admiral Keralova won’t tolerate tardiness.”

Seven’s eyebrow quirked again, “Did you tolerate it when you were a First Officer?”

Chakotay chuckled, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement and a little nostalgia as he was bombarded with memories. “Oh, you have no idea what I had to put up with…” He paused, glancing at her, “Actually, maybe you do. We had some clashes ourselves at first…”