Chakotay stepped out of the aging transport onto the soil of his native planet and looked around in astonishment. He’d been warned; he knew it had changed, but still the differences hit him hard. The land was brown, desert-like, with not a bit of green evident anywhere. No grass, no trees, no shrubs, nothing but bare dirt and sand. The sky was hazy from blowing dust, giving the sunlight a hard, brassy tinge that did nothing to improve the landscape. He remembered the rolling meadows of long grass, dotted here and there with clumps of thick-leaved trees, incredibly blue sky, and air that was clean and sweet-smelling. It was gone, all of it. He might as well be on a different planet.
Dust settled in his throat, making him cough, and he quickened his steps to the shuttle terminal. Inside was chaos as various people dashed to and fro – several ships’ officers, a few harried clerks, lost and confused passengers, and a lone Federation civilian, who apparently had the unenviable job of processing all incoming passengers. Near him stood two bored-looking Starfleet officers, their eyes roaming casually over the room. Chakotay assumed from their stance that their purpose was more decorative than anything else.
As he found a place in the line inching forward, he wondered if returning home like this was really such a good idea after all. He’d had a chance to come back in style as a hero of the Federation, but had declined without a second thought. He didn’t feel like a hero, he just felt tired.
Starfleet’s debriefings had left him exhausted and wrung out, too weary to do more than plod back to his quarters at the end of each day. As well, he’d not had time or the peace he needed to process and deal with Seven’s untimely death. Although his relationship with her had still been new, he’d been filled with hope that finally, he’d found someone to share his life. The abrupt dashing of those hopes as well as the sudden vacuum in his life due to Starfleet’s insistence on sequestering the crew had left him bitter and resentful. For seven long years, he had given unstintingly of himself to the ship and crew but when he needed support and comfort, he had no one. In the end, he couldn’t wait to get off Earth and away from everything that reminded him of Voyager. Although he was very grateful to the Federation for granting him and all the Maquis a provisional pardon and reinstatement into Starfleet if they wished, all he wanted, after the review board had finally finished with him, was to return to his homeworld. As soon as he was free, he’d booked passage on the first ship he could find heading to Bajor, and from there, to Dorvan.
With a sigh, he glanced around. Well, he had his wish.
As so often happened when his thoughts were random, Kathryn’s face slid through his mind. For once, he was too weary to make the effort to force her away, and as the line shuffled forward, he let himself indulge in her memory. Apparently, memory was all he would ever have of her now.
Thinking he should at least say goodbye before he left Earth, he’d tried to call her but her office had briskly informed him that the newly-minted Admiral Janeway was very busy and unless he had a confirmed appointment, she was not available. He had started to explain that he was one of Voyager’s crew, but the aide cut him off, repeating her earlier statement that access to the admiral was restricted to those individuals whom she had already approved. Her tone left no doubt that Chakotay was not on the list.
He couldn’t be bothered to continue the argument, instead asking if he might leave a message since he was departing momentarily with no plans to set foot on Earth again. Reluctantly, the aide had agreed, adding firmly that he had one minute. Knowing the woman would scan it, he’d said only that he was going home to Dorvan and was sorry he hadn’t been able to reach Kathryn before he left. He’d paused, trying to compress all he wanted to say into the time left, and in the end, added only that he wished her good fortune in her new life. Hopefully, the aide would pass it on although Chakotay was beginning to wonder. Well, he’d tried his best; fate would decide what happened to his message.
It was while he was waiting in the departure lounge of the spaceport in San Francisco that he’d happened to see a newsvid lauding the newest hero of the Federation. Kathryn’s image had appeared in a holo obviously taken very recently as she was clad in Starfleet’s current uniform, the admiral’s rank bar clearly visible on her collar. Chakotay had stared at the screen in shock, barely recognizing her. Her expression was hard, her mouth set in a determined line as her eyes gazed forcefully straight at the camera. Her entire bearing was regal, radiating power and authority. In vain, he’d looked for some sign of the woman he’d known so well, of his best friend, of Kathryn. Nothing. She was a different person now. He was actually relieved he hadn’t been able to speak to her the day before – he wouldn’t have known what to say.
With a soft sigh, he mourned the loss of the woman he’d once loved so deeply, before telling himself yet again that he must close that chapter of his life. It was over, done and finished.
As he slowly inched forward, his mind recalled the short message from his sister. He’d known for months that she was alive, but nothing else. Voyager had arrived in the Alpha Quadrant before his turn to use the communications link with Starfleet had come up. He had debated whether to let her know of his sudden decision to return to Dorvan, but in the end, hadn’t bothered. He was very unsure what direction his life was going to take, and wanted only the chance to sit back and look about him before coming to any conclusions.
The line moved a little faster, and suddenly it was his turn to face the official.
The man glanced at him briefly with no sign of recognition. “Name?” he demanded authoritively.
“Chakotay.”
“Birthplace?”
“Here – Dorvan Five.”
“Citizenship?”
Chakotay sighed. “I guess…Federation.”
“You guess?”
“I renounced my citizenship some years ago. Now, I don’t know what my status is.”
The man openly sneered. “Let me guess. You were in the Maquis. Let you out of prison, did they?” His tone left no doubt what he thought of that idea. “Well, you’re on parole, Maquis, so until that’s changed, you are a citizen of the Federation but with restricted rights.” He made a note on the PADD he was holding. “Now, what’s the name of your parole officer?”
With difficulty, Chakotay kept his voice even. “I am not on parole. I received a pardon from the Federation Council ten days ago.”
One of the Starfleet officers had moved closer. Overhearing Chakotay’s words, his eyes brightened with interest, and abruptly, he interrupted. “Are you from that ship that was lost in the Delta Quadrant?”
“Yes.”
The official wore an exasperated expression, but the officer ignored him. “What did you say your name was?” he asked, his tone curious but not unfriendly.
“Chakotay.”
The officer began to smile. “You were the first officer, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” he replied simply.
The other’s smile broadened to a grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Lieutenant Mordeen. I’m sorry we don’t have a proper reception for you, no one told us you were coming.”
Chakotay smiled gently. “That’s all right, Lieutenant, no one knew.”
The official broke in, scowling. “Can we get on with this, gentlemen?” His tone indicated he wasn’t making a request.
The lieutenant turned to stare at him. “Don’t you know who this is? His face has been all over the newsvids for weeks!”
“I don’t have time to watch the news or anything else, Lieutenant!” snapped the official. “Some people actually have to work around here!” He swung back to Chakotay. “What proof do you have of this so-called pardon?!” he demanded. If his manner had been condescending before, now it was downright hostile.
Chakotay sighed and pulled a PADD out of his case. “I think you’ll find it’s all in order, signed by the President of the Federation and countersigned by Admiral Nechayev.”
The man snatched the PADD out of his hand, scrutinizing it carefully before handing it back reluctantly. “Very well,” he muttered rudely, then snarled, “Next!”
Mordeen shrugged his shoulders and bent to pick up Chakotay’s bag. “May I assist you, sir?”
Chakotay was quite capable of carrying his own bag, but the officer looked so apologetic that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him. “Sure, Lieutenant, that’s very kind of you.”
They walked outside the terminal and into a dusty, unpaved road, untidily lined with assorted prefab structures. Squinting in the sudden glare, Chakotay could see that it disappeared into nearby hills. This must be the road to the site of his village, he thought, although he would never have recognized it. But the location of the spaceport hadn’t changed and that was the right direction. He sighed, wondering more than ever if he had been incredibly stupid to come back here. Even the outline of the mountains in the distance looked different.
“Sir?” Mordeen spoke, catching his attention. Chakotay turned to face him. “Do you have a place to stay? There’s a hotel just along here; it’s not much, it’s run by a Ferengi, but it’s all there is….” He paused, then added, “I could show you, if you like.”
Chakotay smiled. “Thanks, but my sister lives nearby, along with other survivors of my people.” His eyes shifted back to the road as he gestured to it. “Do you know if anyone lives out that way?”
“There are some folks living in a few huts beyond the first range of hills, not very many, you couldn’t call it a village. I’ve only been out there once, a few months ago when I first arrived. Once in a while, someone comes into town from that direction, but I don’t know who they are. They tend not to talk to us….”
“No, I don’t suppose they do,” Chakotay replied softly as he picked up his bag. “I’ll follow the road for a while, see if I can find them.” He gestured at the terminal. “Thanks for your help in there.”
“You’re welcome, sir. If there’s anything else I can do….”
“…I’ll let you know. Goodbye, Lieutenant.”
He stepped down into the road and began to walk with an easy gait past the ramshackle collection of buildings. Mordeen watched him go before returning to the terminal, shaking his head. He hoped the commander would find his family.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
For over an hour, Chakotay kept a steady pace along the road, concentrating on his path and trying not to think about the havoc the Cardassians had wreaked on the land about him. He remembered the times in the Delta Quadrant when he had described his home to Kathryn, rhapsodizing about its green meadows and thick forests, about the abundant wildlife and rich land that could grow a wide variety of crops. She’d replied that he made it sound so wonderful, she was surprised he’d ever left. He recalled how stunned he’d felt at her casual remark, how abruptly bereft as if he’d lost his bearings. She hadn’t meant her words to be unkind, he knew, but nevertheless they had hit him hard.
Why had he left? He’d asked himself that question many times in the last few years. As a boy and later a youth, he’d fought against the constraints of tribal ways, longing for a life of freedom among the stars – or so he’d thought. In fact, he acknowledged now, he’d left his home with its peaceful way of life for a place and a system that imprisoned him much more than anything he’d ever known. Starfleet with its rules and regulations, its uniform, had chained him with its siren call of space exploration, and he hadn’t even realized it. Not until he’d challenged Federation authority, demanding justice for his father’s murder, had he understood that he was but a very small cog in Starfleet’s machine, a cog that must submit to the greater power, regardless of what was right.
His father, his people, indeed his entire planet, had been sacrificed on the altar of expediency. Although over the last few years, he had come to terms with the events which had led him to the Maquis, to this day, he couldn’t forgive the Federation for its betrayal.
His heart ached anew at the desolation surrounding him. Would it ever end? Would he and the few pitiful survivors of his tribe ever be able to hope again? Chakotay shook his head, thinking he must be an utter fool to have come here, and yet…it was his home, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be.
He walked steadily around the bend, starting to climb as the road rose into the hills. From what that lieutenant had said, the huts should be fairly close now.
In fact, the remnants of the tribe were located around the very next turn in the road.
Chakotay paused, staring at the few structures scattered haphazardly along a small stream. Only one of them looked even vaguely permanent – the rest were an assortment of traditional tents and standard emergency shelters, such as he and Kathryn had lived in on New Earth. The settlement had a forlorn, temporary air about it, as if it expected to be dismantled at any moment. The hazy atmosphere, if possible even warmer now as the sun approached its zenith, only reinforced its transient aspect.
As he remained motionless, his eyes studying the deserted landscape, two children, a boy and a girl of approximately eight years, suddenly appeared in front of him. They stared round-eyed at the stranger, then as one, spun around and made a beeline to the nearest tent.
“Hama!” they shrieked in chorus. “A stranger is here!”
A woman appeared at the entrance, starting to call the children before her gaze fell on Chakotay and she stopped in astonishment. For several moments, she stared at him in disbelief, her mouth gaping wide before she remembered to close it. Slowly, she walked forward, hand outstretched to his face.
“Who are you?” she breathed, her eyes fixed on his tattoo.
“Chakotay,” he replied softly, “son of Kolopak.”
Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. “Chakotay! Pola’s brother!”
“Yes. Is she here?”
“Indeed she is.” The woman turned, shouting to the children. “Kana! Tonero! Go quickly to Pola’s tent! This is her brother! Hurry!!”
The youngsters dashed down the road, shrieking frantically as they ran. “Pola! Come quickly!”
Heads appeared in every door and opening as their cries echoed, and in moments, the area was alive with people, each hurrying outside to find out what all the excitement was about.
From the tent furthest away appeared a small woman who, despite her lack of stature, immediately projected an air of calm authority. She walked forward steadily, shading her eyes to better make out the crowd now gathering excitedly around a tall figure. Her eyes fastened on the man, someone stepped aside and suddenly, she had a clear view of his face.
“Chakotay!” she exclaimed, then bolted forward to be swept into his arms.
“Pola!” he cried joyously. “Little sister, look at you! All grown up. You look so much like Hama….” His eyes filled with sudden tears as he hugged her tightly, hardly able to believe that she had survived all the death and destruction wrought upon their home.
“Yes, brother,” replied Pola, “I survived as did everyone here. And now you. Welcome home.” And she hugged him back just as hard.
A sudden commotion interrupted them as a man came running up to the crowd at full speed, yelling madly. “Chakotay!” He shouted delightedly. “Chakotay! You’re here! This is wonderful!”
Chakotay released his sister only to wrap his arms around the newcomer. “Pakorok! Cousin! I’m so glad to see you! Thank you for sheltering Pola and caring for her all these years.”
“Chakotay!” reproached his cousin. “Of course I would care for her. She’s family. All of us here are family.”
For the first time, Chakotay looked about him at the eager faces surrounding him. His heart shrank. “Pakorok, is this all? Are there no more?”
It was Pola who answered. “We are all who are left of our village, brother. Other villages on Dorvan were not so lucky.”
“How many from the colony altogether?” he asked in a near-whisper, dreading the answer.
“No one knows for certain,” replied Pakorok, “the People were scattered over many sectors. We believe perhaps three hundred in total, about half of whom have returned to Dorvan. The rest?” He shrugged. “Who knows where they are?”
The woman who had first met Chakotay stepped forward, holding out her hand. Now that he looked more closely, he realized she was not of his tribe. Her face resembled human, but with a slightly alien cast to it.
“I am Coran,” she told him. “My husband was your cousin, Tasso. My children and I were on my home world in the Koralis system when the massacre occurred. After the war, I decided to come here to help rebuild the settlement and to raise my children on their father’s world. I believe Tasso would have wanted that.”
“Coran, I’m glad to know you. Tasso was a good man, I have many fond memories of him from childhood. I’m sorry to hear he was lost.” Chakotay glanced at his sister. “Our other cousins? Do any of them still live?”
She shook her head. “Only the ones you see here. Everyone else in our family is dead.”
He bowed his head as sorrow mixed with rage coursed through him, but Pola would have none of it. Gripping his chin, she forced up his head, gazing intently at him.
“You have to be positive, Chakotay. The People didn’t all die; we’re here, and we’ve already started to rebuild the village and reclaim the land. I know it doesn’t look like much yet, but someday it will. Are you going to help us?”
He stared down at her, seeing the steadfast determination in her eyes – and instantly made his decision.
“Yes, Pola, I will stay and help.”
Her face split into a wide, delighted grin as she hugged him again, then pulled on his hand to lead him to her tent. “Then – welcome home, brother!”
Everyone shouted with joy, and in no time, a feast of thanksgiving was organized, with the villagers celebrating the rest of the day and long into the night.
When Chakotay finally collapsed into bed, his body was exhausted but his heart and soul were finally at peace – he was home.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
Over the next several months, Chakotay joined enthusiastically in the hard labour necessary to resurrect the village and reclaim the land. It was slow work, often frustratingly so, but gradually they all began to see concrete results.
Two sturdy houses were built of adobe brick, as well as a communal dining hall/lounge/clinic. As well, three acres of corn were planted in the first of several experiments to measure the extent of their efforts at reclamation.
Out of the blue one day, Lieutenant Mordeen appeared in a shuttle, carrying over a dozen small saplings. He explained that in one of his forays into the mountains in a remote part of the interior of the continent, far off the beaten track, he’d found a forest that had been overlooked by the Cardassians. He held one out almost shyly to Chakotay, adding simply that he wanted to help.
Chakotay took the little tree gratefully. “I appreciate this very much, Lieutenant. We won’t forget your thoughtfulness.”
Mordeen flushed slightly from embarrassment, but his smile didn’t waver. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to come by now and then, when I’m off duty. It…gets boring in town, there’s not a lot to do….” He paused, not sure what else to say.
Coran, who had come up to them, exclaimed in delight at the sight of the young trees. “Why, these are wonderful! A real sign of hope and rebirth of our community.” She paused, grinning. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say you’re welcome anytime, Lieutenant.”
Her words were echoed by several others who had learned of Mordeen’s gift. In no time, he found himself surrounded by smiling villagers, who thanked him profusely and insisted he stay long enough to join them for a celebratory meal. By the time he left his new friends with a promise to visit again as soon as he could, he knew he’d found a purpose to the sterile existence he’d been leading on Dorvan. Very soon, he was a regular and welcome sight in the village.
The lieutenant’s visits gradually led to a casual friendship with Chakotay. The young man’s eagerness to help and his cheerful smile frequently put Chakotay in mind of Harry Kim, who had become one of his ‘family’ on Voyager, and of course, the two men had Starfleet experience in common.
As Mordeen felt more confident of their friendship, he began to question Chakotay about the seven years he had spent in the Delta Quadrant.
Up to that point, Chakotay had been somewhat reluctant to talk about his time on Voyager. It was in the past, over and done, and besides, no one in the village could possibly relate to what his life had been like, nor did he believe he could adequately explain it to them. However, much to his surprise, his sister sat listening in fascination as he talked to Mordeen.
A few days later, when the lieutenant asked again about his experiences, Pola made him wait until she’d collected Pakorok and several others, insisting that they would want to hear his story as well. Chakotay was more than a little skeptical, but she was proven correct.
By the third session, he discovered that the entire village wanted to learn about his ‘other family’, and suggested that they gather in the dining hall so everyone could be comfortable. After that night, stories about the Delta Quadrant became a fairly regular occurrence.
One unexpected byproduct of his storytelling was the deference shown to him by everyone else. Chakotay was uncomfortable at first when Pakorok, accompanied by several of the other men, insisted that he should participate more actively in the often lively debates of the village. When he did, and they invariably deferred to his suggestions, he backed off, unwilling to assume the leadership which they were thrusting on him. However, as Pakorok explained, none of them had the command training or experience he did. The village needed someone to lead, to make decisions, and as far as everyone was concerned, Chakotay was the person best suited to do that. In vain, he protested that he was still a newcomer, long removed from village life.
“Each of us contributes his or her gifts,” explained Pola, “and you are uniquely talented to lead. That is your contribution, brother. Do not argue with the inevitable.”
She turned away to resume washing her laundry, clearly assuming that the conversation was at an end.
Chakotay stared at her straight back, then shrugged his shoulders and went to find Pakorok. “All right,” he announced, “I’ll be your leader, but only as long as everybody here is agreeable. And I’ll want lots of help and advice. There’s still so much I don’t know….”
Grinning, Pakorok had slapped him heartily on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, cousin, we’ll all let you know when you make mistakes.”
The days passed steadily, filled with some setbacks but many more successes. Chakotay discovered a steady rhythm to his life here, a rhythm which soothed his mind and left him with a feeling of peace, a feeling he hadn’t known in a very long time. It wasn’t the kind of peace that Kathryn Janeway had given him – that had gone straight to his soul – but rather a sense of being settled and content. When he tried to explain it to his sister, she remarked sagely that perhaps he had finally learned to accept Dorvan as his home. He’d stared at her thoughtfully before replying that she was probably right.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
One morning, Lieutenant Mordeen appeared with a message for Chakotay. “It came through less than an hour ago on subspace. It’s from Earth so I thought you’d want to see it right away,” he offered as an explanation for why he’d felt it necessary to bring it out himself. Chakotay rather suspected that the poor man had simply been looking for any excuse to relieve the unrelenting boredom of his duties but he said nothing, merely smiling his thanks as he took the PADD.
The contents made him gasp. The message was from Tom and B’Elanna Paris.
“They’re coming here!” he exclaimed softly to no one in particular, unaware an audience had gathered as word flew around that he’d received an official message from Earth.
His sister pushed through the crowd. “Who’s coming?” she demanded.
“Tom and B’Elanna Paris, with their daughter, Miral.”
A buzz of anticipation ran through the gathering. By now, everyone knew of the legendary pair, Federation and Maquis, human and Klingon, who against all odds had built a successful partnership together.
“Here?” echoed Pola loudly. “Here?!”
Her voice made Chakotay look up to find many pairs of eyes all focused expectantly on him. “Here,” he reiterated.
“Ohhh,” sighed the crowd in awe, while Pola, practical woman that she was, immediately protested. “But why? And where will they stay? When…?! Oh for spirits’ sake, brother, let me see that!”
Snatching the PADD out of his grasp, she quickly scanned it. “In three to four weeks, they say….” Her eyes continued to run through the letter. “Odd, they don’t give a reason….” Thrusting the PADD back at Chakotay, she turned to face the group. “Never mind, we’ll make them welcome. Although where we’re going to put them, I don’t know. We can hardly ask them to stay in a tent!”
Mordeen had been standing to one side, but at her words, he stepped forward. “I’ll be glad to arrange accommodation in town,” he offered, “and I’ll make sure it’s the best.”
Pola nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Lieutenant, we may take you up on that offer. Let me get some heads together and see what alternatives we can come up with.”
The good lieutenant nodded before turning to the hovercar. “I better be heading back then. May I come back later to see how you’re doing with your plans?”
“You’re always welcome,” she replied with a warm smile.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
A sense of excitement permeated the village. Finally everyone would have a chance to meet two of Voyager’s legendary crew.
Despite himself, Chakotay found the villagers’ anticipation spilling over, exciting him, too.
He had long since made his peace with B’Elanna after receiving a slightly frantic message from her shortly after his arrival on Dorvan. Realizing that he’d behaved extremely rudely to her and her daughter, he’d sent his abject apologies the very same day, telling her he’d been so upset he’d simply had to get away from Earth as fast as possible but that he was beginning to feel much better now that he was back where he belonged.
After that, the two kept up a somewhat sporadic correspondence but until he’d received the message that they were coming to Dorvan, he’d had no idea the Parises’ weren’t well settled on Earth. With no hint of their reasons for leaving, he was left to speculate, which he quickly realized was a fruitless exercise. He would find out soon enough when they arrived.
********
For many hours, long and heated debate continued on how to make these members of Chakotay’s ‘other family’ feel welcome, until finally Chakotay had to put his foot down.
“They’re just people,” he explained, “and they won’t want a lot of fuss made over them. Especially B’Elanna. She was in the Maquis for a long time, remember, she’s well used to making do. And that certainly held true in the Delta Quadrant.”
His warning served to quell the wilder schemes for the Parises’ entertainment but there still remained the knotty question of where to house them. Until one night, Pakorok made the obvious suggestion.
“We’ve got a third house under construction right now. So why don’t we speed up the process, finish it, and let them stay there?”
His idea was quickly seized on as by far the best solution. Very quickly, construction teams were organized and the brick walls rose fast, while the carpenters of the group hurried to build some basic furniture, and the weavers rushed to create bedding.
By the time the Paris family arrived nearly three weeks later, a sturdy little house was waiting for them, lovingly prepared by many enthusiastic hands.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
To everyone’s surprise, when Tom and B’Elanna finally arrived, they were traveling in their own long-range shuttle.
After the first rapturous greetings, Chakotay strolled around the sleek little craft, admiring its lines. “How did you get your hands on this?” he asked, more than a little envious.
“It’s Starfleet surplus,” explained Tom blithely. “We were able to pick it up cheap. Of course, we’ve done quite a bit of work on it since, reinforcing the structural integrity and remodeling the interior.”
“It’ll take us pretty much anywhere in the Alpha Quadrant,” chimed in B’Elanna, her eyes gleaming as she surveyed her newest pride and joy. “It’s a good little ship.”
“And we added a few extras,” continued Tom, “like Borg-enhanced sensors, warp propulsion of 9.5 and a lot more firepower than anyone might expect.”
“9.5?!” exclaimed Chakotay. “How can it hold together?!”
“That’s where the reinforced structural integrity comes in,” explained B’Elanna. “It may be small but it’s tough.”
“Like the Delta Flyer?” asked Chakotay.
Tom grinned. “Yeah, like that.”
“I probably don’t want to know how you managed to install what is, or should be, classified technology.”
B’Elanna smiled, showing all her teeth. “No,” she agreed cheerfully, “you don’t.”
“What’s its name?”
“What else?” laughed Tom. “The Alpha Flyer.”
Chakotay chuckled with him. “Very appropriate.” He turned to lead them towards the village. “Come this way. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you.”
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
The Parises settled into village life seamlessly, leading more than one person to remark that it seemed as if they’d always been there. In no time, B’Elanna was overseeing repairs to the cranky, elderly water system which had been bought from an itinerant Ferengi trader the year before. Within days, it was responding to her ministrations and producing abundant water.
“It just needed a little TLC,” she told Chakotay when he thanked her for her efforts.
“It needed you,” he responded gratefully.
Likewise, Tom’s energy and enthusiasm added a definite sparkle to village life, invigorating the villagers as they saw their efforts to rebuild through someone else’s eyes.
As well, in very short order, Miral was adopted by everyone and was making herself at home.
“Don’t worry,” Chakotay was quick to reassure B’Elanna one afternoon when she couldn’t immediately find her daughter. “Someone will be looking after her. It’s traditional for everyone to keep an eye on all the children.”
And sure enough, shortly after, a young mother appeared with a couple of toddlers in tow and Miral perched on her hip. “The children have been playing with her all afternoon so I think she is quite tired now,” explained the woman, little more than a girl herself, as she handed over the baby to B’Elanna.
Miral was not at all pleased to be separated from her new friends and let her mother know in no uncertain terms. Almost drowned out by the angry wails, B’Elanna could do little but mouth her thanks before turning to hurry Miral inside and into her bed. Fortunately, the child was so tired that once settled, she quickly fell asleep.
Retreating to the front porch to sit down, she found Tom just arriving back after taking several of the men out for a spin in the shuttle.
“How’s Miral?” he asked. “We could hear her roars throughout the village.”
“Oh dear,” B’Elanna shook her head. “They’re not going to want us around, are they?”
“It seems to me that they’re pretty relaxed about kids. I don’t think you should worry about it. What set her off, anyway?”
“One of the moms, Kala, I think her name is, brought her back after she played with several of the children all afternoon. I guess Miral didn’t think it was time to come home yet.” She smiled ruefully. “They’re all so good to her, they play with her and carry her all over the place. She’s getting spoiled rotten.”
“They do love children, don’t they?” agreed Tom.
At that moment, Chakotay appeared, carrying a large basket. “I brought dinner – well, the fixings, anyway. I thought you might like a break and it’s easier to eat here so we don’t have to disturb Miral.” He glanced inside hesitantly. “Is she asleep yet?”
“She is,” B’Elanna answered with relief. “Thank you. After the last uproar, I certainly don’t want her to wake up any time soon.”
Chakotay shrugged. “So she takes after you.”
“Oh, thanks a lot!” she snarled.
Reaching for the basket, Tom intervened. “Let’s see what you brought. I don’t know about you but after all that flying, I’m starving!”
***********
An hour or two later, the three sat comfortably on the front porch, watching twilight descend on distant hills.
“In a way, despite the barrenness, it is pretty here, isn’t it?” remarked Tom.
“If you could have seen it before the Cardassians came,” reminisced Chakotay, “it was so beautiful then. Where you see raw dirt now were fields covered in grass or grain. When the wind blew, you could see the stalks waving in long rows, like an ocean.”
“It will be again,” replied Tom. “From what I’ve seen, why, in a few years, you’ll never know the Cardassians had ever been here.”
“Yes, I know you’re right. It’s just that, sometimes, we don’t seem to be making much progress.”
“You will.” He paused, then added rather diffidently. “It seems to me if more people moved here, the work would be speeded up.”
“True,” conceded Chakotay, “but Dorvan is pretty much off the beaten track and with conditions the way they are, not many are willing to take the chance or put in the hard work needed to bring it back to what it was.”
“We might be,” announced B’Elanna from the corner chair.
Chakotay straightened to stare at her. “Do you mean that? I thought you were comfortably settled on Earth.”
Tom shrugged. “We thought so too at first. But…it’s so…’finished’, I guess is the word I want. Everything’s been done, it’s all neat and tidy. And we find that while we’re welcome there, don’t get me wrong, we don’t really feel part of that society anymore. We’re not strangers exactly but more on the outside looking in. People make references to events that we had no part in.”
“Like the war with the Dominion,” interjected B’Elanna. “Often we simply have no idea what they’re talking about. And likewise, we’ve had experiences that they can’t even imagine. Those years on Voyager, living the way we did, they changed us, Chakotay. Earth is too civilized for us. We need a challenge.”
“So,” Tom took up the tale, “a couple of months ago, we decided to leave, have a look around, see what else there is in the galaxy. We figured we’d come here first to see you and find out how you’re doing.”
“Would you want to live here?” Chakotay extended his hand to encompass the landscape before them. “Not that we wouldn’t like to have you, but it’s pretty rough still.”
“We might,” acknowledged B’Elanna, “although I think we’ll want to look around other places, too. ‘Rough’ doesn’t bother us, you know that. It’s finding a place to build a home, where we can make a contribution and bring up our daughter in the right kind of atmosphere. That’s what we want.”
Slowly, Chakotay nodded. “I can understand your feelings very well. That’s one reason why I left Earth so fast. Although when I first got here, I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake. But the place grows on you and now I feel home – really home – and this is where I’ll stay.”
Silence fell for a minute before he added, “If you’re serious about settling here, we should call a meeting so everyone is aware of your request.”
“Of course,” Tom was quick to agree. “And obviously, we would expect to do our share and pull our weight. We realize that our presence might change the dynamics of the village, so if folks decided they would rather we didn’t stay, then we would abide by that decision.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Chakotay was quick to reassure them. “Believe me, everyone would be only too glad to have your expertise, never mind the shuttle.” He paused for a moment then stood up, adding, “I gather you haven’t come to a decision yet.”
“No,” replied B’Elanna, also rising. “We want to see what else there is. It’s a big change in our lives and we need to be sure about what we’re doing. I think we’ll head off tomorrow.”
“I understand.” He held out his hand. “Goodnight. I’ll see you before you go.”
But, as he walked back to his own shelter, Chakotay couldn’t help hoping that the Parises would decide in favour of Dorvan. Their presence, their friendship, was something he’d missed, more than he’d realized. To be able to blend his two ‘families’ would be a dream come true.
The following morning, Tom and B’Elanna departed as quickly as they’d arrived.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
Over the next few days, the village settled back into routine, although quite a number of people were heard to mention how much they missed their visitors.
Chakotay was careful to keep his own counsel, giving no hint that his friends might come back.
And so, a month later, when the shuttle suddenly appeared overhead, there was great surprise and excitement. It circled twice before heading for the spaceport.
An hour later, the Parises appeared with Lieutenant Mordeen.
“We want to stay, if you’ll have us,” they told Chakotay.
Word spread at warp speed and soon the little square was packed with people celebrating the good news.
“We knew as soon as we left that this was where we wanted to be,” explained B’Elanna in a brief moment to Chakotay. “Although we tried to be objective, nowhere else looked as good as here. And coming back yesterday felt like coming home.”
Laughing, he hugged her. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about whether they want you.” Letting her go, he waved a hand at the crowd. “Look at them!”
Pola worked her way through the throng then grasped their hands. “It’s so good to have you here, to know you will become part of our community! I can’t tell you how happy I am!”
Long into the night, the village celebrated its newest inhabitants.
The next day, a general meeting was held at which it was decided how best the newcomers could contribute.
Within days, they were absorbed into village life, B’Elanna taking charge of all things mechanical while Tom became the liaison for the village with Starfleet and various officials in addition to learning the basics of house-building ‘on the job’.
As well, he quickly struck up a friendship with Lieutenant Mordeen, remarking to Chakotay that the young man reminded him a lot of Harry in the early years.
More than ever, feeling welcome and useful, the lieutenant was spending all his off-duty time in the village; eventually he too built a house there for himself.
=^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
Over the next year, the news that the Parises and Chakotay had made a good home for themselves on Dorvan gradually spread through the Voyager crew. Several of their old crewmates, particularly some of the former Maquis, came for a visit and to have a look around, and ended up staying. Each one was folded into the community, contributing their talents.
With the increase in population, more houses could be built and more land reclaimed for agriculture. The village, originally a ragtag collection of huts and tents, began to take on a much more permanent look.
From time to time, news of the galaxy outside would penetrate but for the most part, the villagers lived simple, productive lives, content to focus on their community.
And then, at one stroke, everything changed.
****