Chapter Text
Wincing, Chakotay pulled himself up, a hand on the still smoking console of their shuttle.
The spirits really had a very twisted sense of humor.
Thinking back on it, he really had no idea why he did what he did: Destroy his ship, strand his crew on Voyager; lay their fates into her slim, delicate hands.
And on top of that, after the array was blown to kingdom come on her order, she’d had the audacity to invite him into her ready room to sit down with her for a beverage - tea for him and coffee for her - to talk about their next steps. Like they had been on this mission together forever, like they were equals. Like he was still Starfleet.
So of course they had come to blows almost immediately. He's sure the whole bridge crew must've heard them arguing in her ready room - the first of many battles of wills between them, he was certain. To this day he's not sure who won the first round.
Yes, at the end of it, she was still the Captain and it was still her ship, her crew and a Starfleet one at that. But he saved his Marquis from the brig and he retained his former rank as well. Plus, he got to be First Officer (although that one might be a bit of a dubious privilege, considering).
So probably, she had won that round. Not that he would continue to keep score, that seemed more her style anyway.
Her.
Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager.
And living proof that first impressions weren't always right. He'd taken one look at her, from her perfectly straight posture, shining pips and hair tamed into an unyielding bun on top of her head and concluded she was a stickler for rules, the epitome of the perfect captain Starfleet could pin onto their hypocritical lapel. It had taken Chakotay (literally) a minute to learn Kathryn Janeway was anything but tame; that she'd protect her people with the same ferocity as he would his. She made sure he got that when she'd put herself between him and Paris.
Speaking of, where was his new Captain?
Chakotay groaned and looked around the remnants of the type two shuttlecraft.
Pipes and wires were hanging from the ceiling, parts of the inner bulkhead had come apart, the emergency lights were flickering and smoke wafted through the stuffy air.
Still, it wasn’t hard to locate the younger woman: She was laying in the back half of the shuttle, near the main engine access panel.
He’d told her it was insane, trying to manually reactivate their engine in the midst of what was basically a free fall down to the planet’s surface. But, naturally, the damn stubborn woman hadn’t listened to him.
Something trickled down his temple and into his eye. He wiped at it with the back of his hand. Blood. He must have a laceration.
Ignoring his own injury he made his way over to the Captain, who still wasn’t moving. And for a moment Chakotay thought she might be dead.
A strange emotion zapped through him, one he couldn’t name.
Then a very poisonous thought followed: If she was indeed dead, he would be first in command. Voyager would be his - as long as he made it back to her. Having a ship like Voyager in the Marquis Fleet would be a game changer (provided they got back to the Alpha quadrant before they all died of old age).
But the thought felt lifeless and empty, while his heart remained strangely constricted. He didn’t want Janeway to be dead, he realized.
While he was still wondering why the hell he even cared, the Captain stirred with a groan, making Chakotay unthinkingly send a quick 'thank you' to the spirits.
By the time he managed to cross the shuttle to arrive at her side, she was already back on her feet. The bun on her head had partly come undone, wisps of copper curling around her face. A bruise started to bloom on her temple right down to her cheekbone. But when she looked at him, he could see the same determination shining in her eyes as always.
“Status?” she rasped and he realized he hadn’t yet checked the shuttle computer, too preoccupied with things he really shouldn’t be.
“Alive” he jibed, mostly to buy himself time to step to the nearest console, so he missed her rolling her eyes at him.
“We have emergency power and…that’s about it” he reported after a few seconds of reading the broken screen in front of him.
“Perfect” she grumbled, “it’s as if the Delta Quadrant personally has it out for us”
“Exploring isn't that fun without good ol' big brother Starfleet having your back, is it?”
Janeway threw him an icy glare, but to her credit didn’t take the - admittedly lousy- bait.
“We need to send a distress call to Voyager, I doubt this shuttle is going to be able to fly any time soon” she glanced around them, keeping the worry confined to her eyes only.
Chakotay found himself nodding.
“The last scan before our crash confirmed the air on the planet to be breathable, but we should try to get life support back on or at least find some other shelter in the meantime”
“Very well” Janeway agreed, then stretched out her hand towards him, “your combadge?”
His hands automatically went to the badge on his chest and then paused. The thought of giving up this last connection to his crew, the last lifeline tethering him to his Marquis didn’t feel right at all.
“Why? Can’t you use your own for the signal?”
Kathryn let out an exasperated sigh. Why, for god’s sake, did it have to be him she was down here with? It was obvious what was going on in his head and it only added to her frustration. They would never get anywhere constantly second-guessing each other's motives; not back to Voyager and certainly not back to Earth.
“I will, but I need yours to amplify the signal, Voyager could still be days away” she explained and because she was hurting and annoyed she added, “Don’t worry, I don’t tend to abandon people on deserted planets”
Her new Commander threw her a dark look, which only confirmed her suspicion that this was indeed what he was worried about.
“Not even wanted criminals?” he asked almost flippantly and Kathryn was all too aware of the careful tendril of trust being extended towards her as Chakotay handed her his badge.
Their fingers brushed for the briefest of seconds and she realized that this was the first time they’d made physical contact, skin on skin. She tried to ignore the slight tingling in her fingertips and instead pressed out a curt “thank you”, before she started to search the shuttle for a few square centimeters of usable work surface.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Chakotay retrieve a tricorder from under a chair and check its condition.
“I’m gonna make a round outside, check our surroundings. Maybe I can find something useful”
Her stomach did a weird flip, as her head whipped around to face him.
“You shouldn’t go alone. We have no idea what could be out there”
She’d meant to sound authoritative and maybe even a bit condescending, but instead her voice came out in a rushed breath. And if that alone wasn’t terrible enough, her Commander had the gall to smirk at her, shining white teeth, dimples and all. Kathryn’s stomach twisted again, albeit for an entirely different reason.
“It almost sounds like you’re worried about me, Captain” he grinned and she briefly wondered if this was who he was when he didn’t have to fight for his people's survival.
“I wouldn’t be a very good Captain if I didn’t, would I?” Kathryn quickly recovered, “Besides, I don’t particularly care to hike hours through sand and stone to look for my missing First Officer”
Chakotay let out a breath that sounded like a chuckle and tilted his head. And there were those dimples again.
“Well, then I better make sure I don’t get lost”
“That would be very kind of you”
It was only after he left and Kathryn turned back around to dissect their combadges, she noticed she was smiling.