#neelix appreciation post

[the-ghost-fangirl]

I love how friend shaped Neelix is

This strange little man is my skrunkly little man and he’s never done anything wrong (post season two that is…)

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok’s intake of breath/slight straightening of posture when Janeway says she spoke to his family before she left....................................................I can’t speak

[isagrimorie]

I really wish Voyager had a chance to get Lwaxana Troi even as a hologram. I’m currently watching the first episode where Lwaxana visits DS9.

And I was suddenly struck by a wish and sadness that Majel Barrett never got to cameo on Voyager.

Lwaxana would be all for trying to get Janeway to relax, and I have a feeling Kathryn would actually love to let her hair loose around her.

But also, simply, I wish Majel Barrett was physically in the show and not just her voice. I feel there was such a missed opportunity to have her around.

Janeway would also appreciate the time she can let her hair down with Lwaxana. For some reason I feel like Janeway would love Lwaxana’s shenanigans.

Neelix would adore having her around too. Lwaxana would be positively enjoyed tweaking Tuvok. She might get on B’Elenna’s nerves at first but she would appreciate her eventually.

Tom and Harry would get a kick out of Lwaxana too, I think.

Huh. Why do I feel like Voyager might be the first Starfleet ship (aside from Lower Decks) that would be down to shoot the breeze with Lwaxana?

The Doctor might even fall over himself to impress Lwaxana, and they might sing together.

Also, I think I remember now there was also a post wishing the same thing about Lwaxana visiting Voyager? Anyway, Lwaxana would give Voyager a much needed reprieve from the constant Delta Quadrant-ness.

I agree with the other post that posited she would take one look at Seven and take her under her wing.

[zinda-his-eyes-red]

Here's my Star Trek Winter Gift Exchange (@startrekwintergiftexchange) for @raddocwrites! I hope you enjoy it (and sorry for posting so late)!

Their promt was: Seven & B'Elanna bonding platonically.

Here's the link on AO3 and full text is below that:

The Art of Conversation

Gen | 1.6K | No warnings | This is just a little scene set early- to mid-Season 4 of Star Trek: Voyager, when Seven has been part of the crew for a little while.

***

"One Rigellian sunrise," Neelix announced as he pushed a highball glass forward on his makeshift bar.

Two humanoid hands reached toward the drink. One was half-Klingon; one, half-Borg. Well... not Borg anymore.

"That's mine."

B'Elanna whipped her head around to face the stiffly-upright blonde in front of her. Her eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, Seven," she sounded discombobulated as she tried to correct the sternness of her speech. Her hair bobbed as she looked back at the cocktail.

"Wait, you're having a Rigellian sunrise?"

Effusions of orchids decorated the glass, as per Neelix's usual aesthetic, and enticing skewers of fruit (origin unknown) protruded from the top. The drink itself was a swirl of purple above and orange below-- a nearly deadly mix of liquors if Harry's reports could be trusted. He'd gone hard the previous night with some of the other Ensigns, on day one of Neelix's Crew Appreciation Festival. He had Beta shift this evening, and Tom had had to take a hangover draft to his room that morning just to get him vertical. B'Elanna was hoping her Klingon blood would hold her steadier than the humans.

Neelix smiled broadly from behind the mess hall counter he'd decorated with a colourful fabric table-skirt and some more flowers.

"Don't worry ladies," he interjected, "I've got another one coming right up!"

Seven of Nine eyed B'Elanna's face and body language, searching for answers.

"I was unaware that you had ordered the same drink," she offered, stiffly.

"Oh, well. Um, look," she scanned the room, hoping Seven would take the cocktail and go, "you can have this one if you like."

Seven took the proffered glass. "It looks... unlike other drinks I've had here." The flowers were intended to make it look nice, she guessed.

Neelix grinned as he shook a Boston shaker (newly-replicated and borrowed from an unwilling Tom) til beads of condensation began to appear on the stainless steel.

"That's because it's a cocktail, dear!"

"A cock...tail?" Seven looked mildly concerned.

Neelix leaned over the bar as if he had a secret to divulge. "It's a delicious mix of alcohol with fruit juice or bubbly liquids, and it puts the 'Festive' in 'Neelix's Crew Appreciation Festival'!"

He turned and scuttled to the back to fetch another highball glass.

"And," B'Elanna continued in a low voice, "it's about the only thing Neelix makes that actually tastes good."

She turned back to Seven, her eyes shining. "Don't tell him I said that."

"Here you are, a second Rigellian sunrise for our esteemed Engineering Chief! Now," he said, making a waving movement with his hands as a group of Ensigns came through the door, "go and enjoy the party, ladies! I'm going to have a lot more orders coming in very soon..."

"Well, see you!" B'Elanna called behind her with a shake of her bob. She swept past the crowd of Ensigns to find a table, greeting one or two bright eyed hopefuls as she passed by.

Seven looked at her drink. Now what was she supposed to do? Drink the drink, she guessed, but then what? What was everyone else doing? If she had been able to walk slowly enough she could have observed carefully, but the group of Ensigns were pushing into the bar and forced her out into the crowd. Out into open space.

How was it you were supposed to recognize other humans again? Human/non-human first (that was easiest), then shirt colour, hair colour, hair style, eye colour, skin tone... sometimes voice would give someone away. That's why B'Elanna was so easy to spot-- half-Klingon and that singular, shoulder-length bob. She was unmistakable.

"Give me a break. Did you follow me?"

Seven was shocked for a second. She guessed she'd been staring.

"Fine, just join my table. You look like a lost baby targ."

B'Elanna looked slightly steamed, but Tom was nowhere to be found (Seven had been warned about interrupting "dates"), so it seemed fine.

"I accept."

Seven sat, observing B'Elanna sipping from her straw. People were bustling around their table, but Seven was in her seat, like a ship in a hanger, her refuge from the crowds. Being so close to those she wasn't mind-linked with was still difficult.

She tried putting her mouth on the straw like B'Elanna had.

"It's not working."

"Huh?"

"The drink. It's broken. Yours is working."

The Chief's temper flared. "Oh for-- You're just putting your mouth on the straw, of course it's not going to work."

"Yes, that is what I'm doing," Seven remarked incredulously. This crew was so imprecise in their observations. Why could they not explain with more efficacy?

"What is it I'm expected to do?"

"Well, you just, you know..." she mimed sipping from the straw.

Seven blinked at her blankly. "I do not, regrettably. That's why I was asking for some direction."

B'Elanna practically rolled her eyes. "Um... look, why don't you just drink directly from the glass, Seven?"

She examined the glass. Removing some flowers would give her enough access to the rim. Yes. Satisfactory.

"That is satisfactory. I... thank you for your help. I am not yet accustomed to all the ways of consuming by mouth."

Her counterpart seemed to smirk.

"It sounds so great when you say it like that. Well, why not try it?"

She did.

B'Elanna reached over to slap Seven on the back as her coughing and spluttering cleared the aisle near their table.

"Maybe you should just stick to fruit juice for now. Neelix's experimental home brew is not exactly the thing you want to cut your teeth on."

"Cut my..." Seven spluttered, "...teeth?"

"It's an old earth expression. Stick to the fruit juice." Seven nodded, pushing the drink aside.

Not having anything to do, Seven looked around, trying not to closely observe B'Elanna sipping her drink.

"So how was your day?"

The redshirt passing by took half of B'Elanna's mouthful sprayed over his shirt before she regained control, hastily swallowing.

"I'm so sorry," she called after him, not bothering to wipe it off as that would obviously cause him more embarassment. It was perhaps more Klingon than human manners, but she still resisted being worn down into human ways.

"Are you well?" Seven queried B'Elanna. It seemed she was not the only one having difficulties consuming this liquid, she reasoned.

"Ah-- yes," B'Elanna responded, "What did you say just now?"

"I believe I asked you, 'How was your day?' Harry said it's a way of expressing interest in an interlocutor and a good way to begin a conversation."

B'Elanna snorted. "He said all that?"

"I paraphrased."

"Hmm," she sipped her half-empty drink, trying to decide if she was buzzed enough to take on this conversation. Ensigns were falling over after a few sips of Neelix's cocktails, but B'Elanna's constitution was proven to be made of stronger stuff.

"Well, okay. How was my day? Um... frustrating, to be honest. No one understands how important the plasma conduit cleaning is. Grunt work as it is, we need crew members that are relatively experienced to do it properly, especially with the eccentricities of design on this ship. I just can't have them continuously breaking down on--"

B'Elanna stopped short, her eyes drifting up to Seven.

"I'm sorry."

Seven looked confused. "For what?"

"I guess my day wasn't very interesting."

Seven tilted her head, "How do you mean?"

"Oh," B'Elanna shook her head, looking down at the plastic table-top, "Tom is always getting mad at me for talking about work too much. I'm supposed to talk about my 'feelings' or something."

"I was not uninterested in the topic at hand."

B'Elanna raised her head.

"Oh. Really? Usually when I talk about the plasma conduits, people run for cover." She stifled a laugh.

"I do not understand why they would run."

"The thing is," B'Elanna sighed, ignoring Seven's implied question while struggling to put her thoughts into simple terms, "usually when you talk about your day it's supposed to be an overview instead of focusing on one thing. Tom encourages me to mention positive as well as negative aspects of the day. Which I find... difficult."

She grimace-smiled. "It irritates Tom when I rant."

Seven considered for a minute. "Does Tom himself engage in this optimal behaviour you've described: 'mentioning the positive as well as negative'?"

B'Elanna blinked. "Um. Hmm. Well now that you mention it..." She frowned, trailing off.

"In fact, I found your previous topic quite intriguing. The differences between Borg ships and Voyager are extreme. Plasma conduits appear to be a supremely inefficient system but I'm interested to hear what you have to say about their care."

"Really? You are?" B'Elanna's expression was bemusement. Was this a prank? It was Seven. The woman had no concept of what a prank even was.

"Yes, as I stated previously. I am interested."

"Huh."

Seven broke B'Elanna's gaze to survey the room.

"I find your demeanour far more pleasing than that of many on this ship, with the exception of Tuvok who has excellent communication skills."

She turned back to B'Elanna.

"I find you honest, direct, and unlikely to mislead. I might say that conversation with you is quite pleasant."

B'Elanna gaped. She felt heat creep up her neck.

"W-well. Thanks I guess."

"I would like to return to the previous topic of plasma conduits," Seven stated, trying to steer the conversation back. "If you are amenable to it, of course."

B'Elanna smirked.

"Okay, you're on. But first," she slurped up the end of her drink, "we're going to do something called 'refreshing our drinks'. You better get some fruit juice you can actually stomach. Come on, back to Neelix."

"Will we not lose our hangar? I apologize, I meant table."

B'Elanna bellowed at a couple of Ensigns sneaking close to their vacated seats.

"Anyone who takes our table is on plasma conduit cleaning! Chief Engineer's orders!"

She turned back to Seven.

"Now where were we...?"

***

Thanks for reading! I love comments so please leave one here or AO3 if you like!

[wwillywonka]

Star Trek for the ask game(of course)!

hello! yaaay, so excited! i'll answer for tos, tng, and voyager since those are the ones i'm most familiar with<3

for this ask game

TOS

blorbo: 💖🖖SPOCK💙<333

scrunkly: jim... he's so tragic but also so cute🥺. he makes me soft and also makes me want to be a good person.

scrimblo bimblo: JANICE RAND. CAN WE GET SOME APPRECIATION FOR JANICE RAND??. also uhura and sulu both deserve the world i love lesbian4gay besties.

glup shitto: dr. helen noel from dagger of the mind. there's just something about her attraction/devotion to jim that's so different from the other "love interests" he has over the course of the series. i'm nothing if not a sucker for people who are blinded by admiration and loyalty (cough cough. yes she is spock-coded. whatever). she's even a psychologist<3.

poor little meow meow: and if i said valeris from undiscovered country

horse plinko: bones i need you carnally i mean what

eeby deeby: SAREK I HATE YOU SO MUCH AND YET YOU ARE SUCH AN INTERESTING CHARACTER I CARE ABOUT YOU BECAUSE I DESPISE YOU SO MUCH

TNG

blorbo: data💛💛💛

scrunkly: data for this one too. but also geordi. he also always makes me 🥺🥺🥺. just a good lad. worf, too, is so shaped<3

scrimblo bimblo: pour one out for deanna troi. i'm so sorry for everything they did to you. i heart autistic characters. also shoutout to beverly for being the only competent doctor in all of star trek.

glup shitto: lore😊😊😊

poor little meow meow: PICARD YOU HAVE SO MUCH TRAUMA THAT YOU SIMPLY NEVER DEAL WITH. PLEASE GO TO THERAPY OLD MAN.

horse plinko: you know what. Q.

eeby deeby: that one fucking admiral in unification who for some reason in the novelisation wants to fuck picard sooo bad

VOY

blorbo: i know i haven't posted much about voyager yet because i'm still in the middle of watching it for the first time but. yeah it's the emh. of course it is. look at my other answers. i care about him so much and every time he has an episode centred around him i lose my shit. tuvok is an incredibly close second. and i'm only just starting s4 but seven has to be on this list because I Care Her and she doesn't fit into any of the other categories for me.

scrunkly: easy. harry kim. next question.

scrimblo bimblo: I LOVE KES SO MUCH I'M SO SAD I JUST GOT TO THE EPISODE WHERE SHE LEAVES

glup shitto: neelix!

poor little meow meow: janeway

horse plinko: also janeway. she has so much going on.

eeby deeby: also the emh

[glynmostyn]

Restaurants and things still exist on earth in Star Trek and cooking is still fully appreciated. Captain Sisko's father owns a restaurant on Earth and he himself cooks on DS9; cooking is Very Important to him. The klingon restaurant owner on DS9 also purveys non-replicated and authentic klingon cuisine(considering some of it is live animals).

Replicators in Star Trek are more for food scarcity issues and on Starships in particular(post TOS and it's plates of colorful cubes) for voyages. Voyager is a bit of an outlier with Neelix and actually having a kitchen but that was out of necessity, I don't think Voyager had working replicators? I can't remember, I'm less familiar with Voyager.

It's even commented at least once that replicator food doesn't taste as good as real food, so in Star Trek's case it's less 'food is an issue that needs solved because cooking sucks' and more of a 'this is the next form of astronaut food.'

I think a lot of the stuff with 60s era scifi future foods also has to do with microwaves and microwavable meals being the newest technology so everyone was very excited about it. Frozen meals were new and exciting and lifted a lot of labor for housewives, the major audience of scifi shows(most shows honestly) at the time - all from a USAmerican perspective of course.

A lot of scifi tends to take place in settings where cooking isn't always necessarily an option, too.

As much as I love scifi it breaks my heart that the genre sees food and eating as an inconvenience that can be streamlined with the right technology

[sapphicsoliloquies]

Ah, yes. Star Trek Voyager.

The collected adventures of Badass Butch, Repressed Gay Tattoo, Fuckboy Daddy Issues, Baby Gay, Bisexual Anger, Telepathy Ex Machina, Comic Relief, Tinkerbell, Traumatised Expositional Lesbian and the Doctor.

[ichayalovesyou]

hi you know loads of stuff about vulcans, do you know anything abt their funerals? particularly songs/poems they might recite? i know neelix sang part of a funeral dirge in voyager but i can't find any others.

Vulcan Funerals

I appreciate the compliment! Unfortunately, aside from the fraction of a funeral dirge we see in Voyager, there is little canonical information on the technical practices. However if you want a funeral dirge for T’Khasi and all the Vulcans who perished when Niro destroyed Vulcan in the Kelvin timeline, check out Nadordatoran na’o T’Khasi by T’Prion. OR if you want to delve into a modern human dirge translated into Vulcan, Denatonia did a cover of How To Save A Life by The Fray (which I nicknamed Remembering A Friend in my head, because of the slight change of lyrics in the translation).

Here is all the information we have on Vulcan funerary practices to make up for the tragic lack of canonical music! (Star Trek II & III, & Star Trek: Enterprise & TNG spoilers ahead!)

The most we know about Vulcan funerary practices we can extrapolate from Spock’s death (and resurrection) in Wrath of Khan & The Search For Spock. As well as the temples Mount Seleya & T’Karath Sanctuary, the existence of Katric Arks, and the knowledge of Surak’s Disciple, T’Klass’s body. On top of all that, parallels to human cultures.

The starting point of a Vulcan death is the transference of the Katra (if possible) or the Vulcan soul. When a Vulcan knows they will die soon, they transfer their Katra to another individual. Sarek’s accusations toward Jim in The Search For Spock, and Spock’s internal commentary in the Wrath of Khan novelization imply a few things. That the carrier of the deceased’s Katra must be trained or at least prepared, and close to the deceased, physically if not emotionally. Spock ruled out Saavik because he wasn’t prepared/close enough, and Jim because he could not get to him in time, choosing then to take the unprecedented act of placing his own Katra into a human, McCoy. I only say unprecedented because Syrran put someone else’s Katra, Surak’s, into Archer’s mind before his death, forfeiting the chance to preserve his own Katra.

It is a notable fact that Katras have a significant mortality rate, resulting in the true and permanent death of a Vulcan, especially when off-world or not amongst their own people. Many things can go wrong. A Vulcan cannot transfer their Katra if they die suddenly and unexpectedly. The Katra can also be lost if they fail to transfer it to another host properly, or if the host dies before transferring the Katra to a practitioner. Who knows how to transfer the Katra to a Katric Ark, like the priestesses at Mt. Seleya. Even then, the only known successful Katric Ark transfer and maintenance of a Katra was Surak’s, all other discovered Katric Arks have appeared empty.

That being said, there may be rituals and alternatives. Such as the deceased’s Katra selecting loved ones to be transferred to over time (whose Katra gets transferred upon death may vary) almost like a sort of Soul Swap Meet. Alternatively a ritualistic releasing of a Katra if one does not believe in the merit of Katric Arks or wish to burden loved ones/future generations with sustaining their Katra. We see evidence of the first example in The Guiding Light, when Spock transfers his deceased father’s Katra from Picard to himself. Although we do not know whether Spock still harbors it, or what became of Sarek’s Katra after the scene.

So what happens to the body once the Katra has left or is no more? The only funeral/burial for a Vulcan we see in-canon is Spock’s. His is more of a generic Federation burial-at-sea with no other Vulcans present aside from Saavik, I do not think we can use his funeral as a quintessential example. Although I do think it’s worth noting he is interred in his Kohlinar robe, this may be a legitimate practice even for those who did not complete Kohlinar to be buried in their robe, or it may have just so happened to be the most appropriate clothing he had aboard to be buried in (by human standards, I’m sure it was at least not disrespectful, I’m sure Saavik would’ve said something otherwise).

The only named body we ever see interred however is T’Klass. His mummified remains entombed at the T’Karath Sanctuary along with the Kir’Shara. This implies that mummification, at least for highly regarded members of Vulcan spiritual/philosophical society, was a sacred (if not common practice).

T’Karath Sanctuary also contains catacombs, we do not know who else is interred there, it may only be a burial place for Vulcans of T’Klass’s stature, or of slightly less importance but still revered, that are also mummified, likely not members of the common population. I have a theory based on the logical philosophy of modern Vulcan, and the way the cycles of life are regarded in the (fan authored) Kir’Shara chapter, The Thread of Life. Vulcans may actually practice a form of Sky Burial for those who are not interred with the same pomp and circumstance as the Vulcan spiritual elite. Sky Burial is a type of excarnation (removing the flesh and organs from the body before burial) practiced in Tibet on Earth, or, perhaps in addition to excarnation, Vulcans may practice cremation.

Possible Burial Styles (Fanon)

Sky Burial/Excarnation- the body is left in a chosen excarnation place (in Tibetan practice the body is taken to a mountain top, like Mt. Seleya on Vulcan) to be stripped of its flesh by natural elements, predators & carrion eaters until only the skeleton remains, which is then interred in local/familial catacombs or other burial places. This idea coming from the Logic in sustaining the ecosystems of Vulcan with the flesh that the Katra no longer has need of, the same result could come from donating one’s remains to science as well (for educational or scientific purposes), perpetuating the axiom that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one, where the need for the body no longer exists other than its natural course of consumption and decay.

Cremation- Fire and heat are no rare commodities on Vulcan, and this practice could potentially be done post excarnation or perhaps in some cases instead of. The Fire Plains are a sacred place that we see in Enterprise, and are part of Falor’s pilgrimage to seek the monks of Kir in the ballad “Falor’s Journey” (as sung by Tuvok in Voyager), I could imagine it being a sacred place of cremation. Perhaps the remains are to be cremated when the Katra is lost or released, whether excarnation still occurs prior is optional. The flames consuming the organic remains is symbolic of sending the body where the Katra has gone, disseminated into infinite oblivion.

[leolaroot]

in case it wasnt clear based on my url and name and frequent Neelix StarTrek posting. I don't appreciate neelix slander on my posts and would prefer he was treated with respect thank you

^new forum signature it's this image and naught else.

[unicorn-and-bluebells]

SERIOUSLY I FUCkin. I love how Neelix is nice and sometimes almost annoyingly friendly and at first you think he might be a sucker or a fool or something. And then you spend more time with him and learn more about him and find out he has this ridiculously traumatic backstory, he used to commit crimes for a living all the fucking time, and he thought YOU were a sucker at first and was gonna scam you for everything you're worth...AND THEN EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE "oh shit cool" AND HE BECOMES A KEY MEMBER OF THE FOUND FAMILY AND COOKS FOR EVERYONE

Like that's fucking incredible. Can I get more guys like this please

I love how Neelix seems like he’d be a bumbling coward and he is a bit of a bumbler but he’s also got like so many criminal friends and shady connections…Neelix…how do you know all these people.

[galaxy-class]

Star Trek Voyager Chakotay/OC

Hello! This is the first fic I’ve ever written, it’s a 6k Chakotay/OC PWP with some fluff and touch starving sprinkled in here and there. Janeway has an honorable mention in the beginning because I love her, but this isn’t a J/C fic (at least not this time lol). Possible triggers under the cut! 

Possible triggers (If you think of anything to add let me know!): Alcohol consumption, descriptions of male/female sex, themes of dominance and submission (power dynamics between commander and subordinate), mild choking (hand on throat positioning), mild restraining (holding wrists, no ropes/equipment)

A thank you to @marigoldseesstars and @burntheparameters (and other friends not on tumblr so I’m unable to tag them) for encouraging me to post! I hope you guys like it and I welcome feedback good or bad! <3 

Chain of Command (Title is trash because I am trash, thank you!)

Although the Delta Quadrant was full of new experiences and discoveries, the days between each excursion were full of the necessary, albeit mundane, tasks that it takes to run a starship. Duty rosters, shift trades, meetings… Terribly dull, and yet required for the ship to function. Captain Janeway insisted on it. Looking out of some unnamed observation window with a distant gaze, she would lecture crew members who tried to oppose her strict adherence to protocol. “I know, believe me, and I’ve thought long and hard about whether or not it’s wrong for me to impose these rules on this crew, knowing that the institution upholding them is so far away… But these rules help bring us together. They give us purpose and cohesion, and remind us of our principals while we’re so far away from order and reason…” Most people stopped listening the second she got that look in her eye, knowing there isn’t any amount of complaint or protest that could change her mind. And it isn’t too terrible a concept anyway. After all, someone has to be the one to wipe off the com panels when they muck up with the fingerprints of the crew members who insist on using the touch features rather than the voice commands, and someone else has to review the available personnel to cover for Ensign Baytart’s requested personal time off and Tuvok's mandatory fitness training.

Chakotay felt the days growing shorter, while the workload of monotonous tasks crawled on before him. The days of course, where perfectly timed on the ship’s chronometer to ensure maximum efficiency among the crew while allowing for adequate time to rest and relax between shifts. It even took into account the differing night and day cycles each species had grown accustomed to on their home planets and calculated a perfect medium between the variables. What the ship’s computer did not account for however, was Chakotay’s tendency to linger in the small moments between tasks. How he would stop to appreciate the soft thread in a blanket gifted to him by a friend, or steal an extra second to smell the spices mixed in with Neelix’s latest “coffee” blend. And so, his days grew shorter, while the soft glow of the padds laid out on his work station encroached in his peripheral vision, beckoning him to finish up this week's chores. 

Chakotay stood from his chair stretching his arms and looked down at the bottom of his mug, no longer filled with the thick brown liquid Neelix described as “Better than coffee.” He chuckled to himself about what a luxury real coffee had become in this quadrant. ...Duty roster.. Hmm… Why don’t I just go down to each station and see who’s available… Maybe the crew will have some personal insight I could use… His thoughts began to trail off and he found himself wandering towards stellar cartography. 

As the cool metal doors slipped open, light poured in from the hall onto the darkened work stations of a diligent crew, carefully mapping out this new region of space. They had their work cut out for them, creating detailed maps based on Voyager’s data and comparing them to patchwork resources acquired along the way. Slowly adjusting their eyes to the bright light silhouetting Chakotay in the doorway, spines began to stiffen at the sight of their commanding officer. Lieutenant Kelly, who’d recently been promoted to this division, tripped over a few words beginning a report of their progress. “Sir! We didn’t expect- We’re currently running a scan on the left-”

Chakotay put his hand up in protest. “I was only wondering if anyone wanted to spend tomorrow on the bridge, Ensign Baytart requested a day off, and if I have to scroll through any more names on that padd I might just go crazy.” His expression was soft and lighthearted, but the crew shared nervous glances concerning the surprise visit from the ship’s first officer. “At ease” he insisted, and held out hope for a few more seconds that anyone would take up his offer. 

“I’ve never had bridge duty before” someone spoke up from the back of the room.

“Who is that?” He asked, trying to see through the dark. 

“Ensign Salva sir, I have.. some experience with being on the conn, just not Voyager’s bridge… If no one else wants the shift that is.” 

Ensign Bobbi Salva was not tall and commanding, nor did her voice carry well in any way that demanded attention, but she was never one to pass up a new opportunity. What else are star ships for? In fact, she had found herself in stellar cartography on a similar request. Although she was trained as a medical assistant, she found ways into almost every corner of the ship. A recent favourite of hers being the aeroponics bay, where Kes had invited her to learn about cultivating plants after spending time with her in sickbay. “Growing a plant is just like treating a patient” Kes would say to her, “You just have to know what they need, and they can flourish on their own.” She liked Kes, they were similar in size and stature, but very different in personality in a way that complimented each other well. Bobbi had a square face, and curly dark hair which she tried a variety of ways to pull back into the intricate designs that reminded her of all ways her mother would style her beautiful curls. She had high cheekbones, and deep set eyes that sparkled with reflections of scarlet in the dark brown of their center. Sometimes she appeared to have a bluish tint, her father insisted that she was mixed with a Bolian on her cousin’s grandmother’s aunt’s side of the family, but mostly she had olive undertones on lovely brown skin.

"Salva… Aren’t you usually working in sick bay? I wasn't aware of any personnel changes in that area of the ship" Chakotay started. 

"Well actually sir, it's a funny story really, me and Kes were in the aeroponics bay discussing-" 

"Sir, I apologize for interrupting, but if there is nothing further we do have a few more things to get done." said Lieutenant Kelly, who was admittedly happy that Salva had found something else to do. As interesting as Bobbi found it, stellar cartography was not her strong point. 

"Of course" Chakotay responded, "Salva if you'll come with me we can go over the details of the assignment. As you were Lieutenant." With that Bobbi followed Chakotay into the hall, leaving behind her curiosity for star maps and replacing it with apprehension about serving on the bridge. 

"Sick bay, aeroponics, stellar cartography, is there anywhere besides the bridge you haven't been Ensign?" Chakotay chuckled. 

Bobbi was struck with the sudden realization that, not only was she talking to the second highest in command on the ship, but she had neglected to inform him or anyone else about her incursions. 

"I, well, only went to sections that I was invited to observe or help by other crew members, I never meant to break protocol.." 

"That's alright, I was just curious." Chakotay let out a sigh. He knew most of the crew respected him, and he trusted them. In the Marquis however, things were different. Sure, he was their captain and they followed his command like any good crew would, but there was rarely tension between him and his subordinates solely on the basis of rank. Starfleet vessels are polished and prideful, and senior officers are revered for their accomplishments. Marquis ships are built on trust and bonds between crew members fighting for a cause they believe in, and sometimes respect in senior officers is only granted because they can hit harder than you can in a bar fight. A bit far off from the Starfleet sparkle of an extra pip. 

Tired from his daily tasks and determined to have a sense of normalcy, he started again, “Are you looking to explore another career option? We could always use extra hands in engineering.” said Chakotay.

Bobbi let out a breath and relaxed her shoulders, realising how tense she had been. Chakotay’s warm voice and reassurance took away some of the stress she was carrying around while trying to maintain an aura of professionalism. “Actually I love sick bay. I’ve never felt more right than when I found medicine, I had changed my area of study so many times before…” A small smile escaped her lips, thinking of how many nights she spent worrying she would never find a place to fit in, now feeling so at home with a medical tricorder in her hands. “But as much as I love it, I’m still so curious about everything else. I want to see it, be a part of it for a small time. And seeing the other divisions in action reminds me just how much I love what I do.” she laughed, and looked up at Chakotay to see that he was smiling too. She never noticed before, how his face seemed to light up when he smiled, and caught herself holding her breath again. 

He stopped in the hall outside of his room. “I’m glad to hear you’ve found your calling. It’s a rare gift to know where you fit in. But I’m happy you’ll be joining me on the bridge, even if it’s just one shift. How about I make us some tea and we’ll go over the details of your assignment?” 

…Glad I’ll be joining him on the bridge.. ‘Joining me’ he said… Wait, his quarters? The First Officer’s quarters? Ensign Salva felt her cheeks flush, and the little slice of Bolian blue in her veins sparkled through, turning her subtle blush into a beautiful, almost purple crimson. 

He was nearly caught off guard, watching her face. She’s almost glowing, I wonder what... oh I should have realised that would make her uncomfortable… “Of course we can go in the dining hall if you prefer, I just have to get the padds, I’m sorry if-”

“No no it’s alright, I could use some tea.” She looked up at him again, settling her gaze on the part in his lips forming  what was going to be the next word in his apology, turning her glance quickly back towards the doors to his room. He smiled and welcomed her in.  

Chakotay’s room was softly lit, and sprinkled with things that had been given to him by the people he cared about. A lovely red and orange throw blanket from his grandmother, a crystal set of whisky tumblers from an old pilot he used to know, little pieces of the people who’d helped shape him. 

“Tea first, then work.” He gestured towards the couch for her to sit, and walked over to the replicator for two cups of yerba mate. A red, earthy tea, made from the leaves of a South American holly tree. One of his favourite blends that he didn’t often indulge in, because he didn’t want to spoil it. Tonight it felt appropriate. 

“Bridge duty on Voyager? Maybe I need something stronger than tea.” She could feel herself smiling nervously. Why did I say that? He’s going to think I’m not up for the challenge… 

Thinking for a second, tilting his head ever so slightly, “You know what you’re right. Let me get something… Here it is, warm vanilla brandy from a group of Bajorins that helped us restock on a very cold, very long night with the Marquis. It compliments the tea perfectly.” Adding the brandy to the tea, he joined her on the couch. ...What I wouldn’t give to see that lovely color in her face again… We’re supposed to be discussing bridge duty, I think…

As he sat down next to her she crossed her legs up onto the couch and held the tea in her lap, feeling the warm mug in her hands, letting the steam from the mixture of herbs and brandy curl up around her and closing her eyes for a second. Has he always been so welcoming and kind? Is he always this easy to be around? We’re supposed to be discussing bridge duty, I think… 

He put his arm on the back of the couch, and rested his cheek against his fist “Where are you from?” he wondered. 

“From?” she blinked 

Chakotay smiled and put his hand down in his lap, mirroring her posture and feeling the warmth in the mug he was holding. “Yes, before Starfleet, did you live on Earth?” 

“Oh no, I mean I’ve been there plenty of times, but my dad worked in one of the schools on Mars, he’s a teacher there for kindergarteners.” Bobbi laughed and looked up as if she was watching a memory play on the ceiling, “He used to tell stories to his kids about me being in Starfleet, he was always so proud of me. I wonder what he told them when…” She stopped and looked down, it wasn’t a happy memory any more, not knowing if he had given up hope that her ship would be found, not knowing if she had given up hope that they would make it back either. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Chakotay reached his hand out to put his palm on her knee. “We’ll make it back, I have to believe that. I’m sure your father misses you a great deal.” He let out a small smile, “Honestly I would miss you too, you seem like that type of person, who sticks with someone when you’ve gone.” He didn’t even notice that he had moved closer to her.

He may not have noticed his movement, but she was acutely aware of his hand on her leg, and the distance closing between them. She noticed that she leaned into his touch, and she noticed that she was hanging onto every word in that soothing deep tone of his. “I.. thank you sir.” Bobbi felt her cheeks flush again, and cast her eyes down at his hand. Am I flirting with the first officer? Is… Is the first officer flirting with me? She felt the brandy warming her stomach and a prickle at the tips of her fingers. Oh, this is real alcohol she thought for a second. It had been a while since she had the comfort of a genuine drink, and synthehol just doesn’t have that same feeling. 

He paused for a second at the sight of her. That wonderful color, shading the edges of her cheeks and the tips of her ears, stole the words he was trying to formulate. Chakotay didn’t usually like being called “sir,” he always thought it sounded a little pretentious, and while he understood and respected the purpose of formality on a ship, sometimes he just wanted a regular conversation. So then, why did it sound so good when she said it? He was fighting a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, and felt that same warmth in his veins from the brandy that he hadn’t felt in some time. 

“I really appreciate you making me feel so... welcome.” She said, unsure if she should change the subject or push it further. She reached over and placed her cup on the coffee table, and watched as he mirrored her movement, setting his down as well. “I couldn’t have been your first choice for Baytart’s replacement, but I appreciate the opportunity, sir.” she finished, deciding to turn the conversation back to work. Even still, she couldn’t help but wonder where it might have gone instead. I’ve got to be reading too much into this… There’s no way he’s... I just need to get my thoughts together for a second… 

There it is again, ‘Sir’... It felt like honey coming off her lips. The way she said it, like she didn’t need to say it, like she had an inside joke and it was a challenge. “Honestly” Chakotay responded, trying not to linger too long on the thought, “I had no idea who I was going to pick. I spent so long looking at names on a screen, I just had to see someone face to face instead.” This time he did notice that his hand was still on her knee and he had, in fact, moved closer to her. He noticed too that she’d shifted positions and now the other leg was down on the floor, pushing her very slightly closer to him. Before he realised what he was saying, he started saying it. “I’m glad it was you that decided to say something, and that you came with me tonight. That subtle blue is so beautiful in your skin, has anyone ever mentioned that before?” His voice grew quieter and deeper, his eyes trailed across the line of her jaw. 

Oh… This wasn’t her over thinking anything, she realised. And now that she had figured it out, she wasn’t letting it go. Now it was a challenge, if it wasn’t before. Her eyelids lowered and she chose her words carefully, curious how far he was willing to take this conversation without her making it too easy. “Is that so? No, I don’t think I’ve been told that before.” Bobbi could still feel the heat in her face, and was finding it more and more difficult to take her focus off his lips, his shoulders, the feeling of his hand still on her leg, until she felt herself reach down and softly lace her fingers onto the spaces between his. It was almost jarring, how incredible it felt, the softness and warmth of his hand, all from a very small touch that she didn’t realise she needed until it was so obvious that she needed it. 

Chakotay could tell she was playing at something and could see the twitch of excitement on her face, even though she answered him so sparingly. …’Is that so’ Oh, I think you know it is, and I would love to see what else you know… But the feeling of her hand on his brought him out of his trance. He looked down at her delicate fingers fitting perfectly between his, knowing how good it felt to be touched. “Ensign… Bobbi. This wasn’t my intention with bringing you here. If you’re not comfortable, I would never impose…” He tilted his head back up to meet her gaze, “What I mean to say is that I don’t want to cross any boundaries you might have.” 

“Commander, I could say the same to you. But I think, if it’s alright, that I would like to stay for a little while.” She held his stare intently while she spoke, to be sure he would not miss-hear her words. No, commander, I do think I will stay here with you… I think that’s exactly what I want to do. Again, her eyes found his lips, and she moved closer to his seat, sliding his hand with hers further up to the soft middle of her thigh. His fingers tightened their grip just slightly, like he couldn’t help it, like he had to feel more of her, and she nearly lost all of her focus at once. Not yet, she thought, I want to see what you do. You’re the commander, after all, so make a decision. Make a command. Dizzy with the thoughts of what he might do, she waited, giving him no more before he would respond. 

Commander… Say it again… “Then stay.” He placed his hand gently on her cheek, using his thumb to feel the curves of her face before pulling her to him until their foreheads met. “I’m going to kiss you.” It wasn’t a question, his voice was deep and quiet, and full of desire. 

“Then do it.” She whispered. He smelled sweet like the vanilla brandy mixed with the faintest trace of eucalyptus, and his hand felt strong on her face. She could barely contain her composure, waiting for his lips to meet hers. 

Her words felt like another challenge, and without hesitation he pressed his lips onto hers and felt her whole body melt into him. His hand slid up her thigh to around her waist, pulling her deeper into him, and he moved the other hand to the base of her neck where he could feel her draw in a breath between each kiss. She let out a moan that he could feel with the hand on her throat, and he pushed her back gently, stopping her in the middle of her ecstasy. Lifting a thumb to her chin, he pulled down and parted her lips with his hand, and drew his face in close again, just barely brushing the surface of her mouth with his own. “I like that sound, does this feel good?” While he asked, his other hand trailed along the inside of her thigh, making her gasp. “No, I asked you a question. Does that feel good?” His fingers tightened their grip on her leg. 

“Yes.” She whispered again. How could it not feel good? Please... The strength of his hands, his lips, his tongue, he was intoxicating, and she didn’t want him to stop. 

“Good.” His lips were still brushing hers, he felt her trying to move forward and pushed her back again. “You want more?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes what? You weren’t so shy before calling me ‘sir’ and ‘commander’. I even thought you liked it.”

Her eyes turned sharp and hungry, and she waited just a little while, testing his patience until she felt another squeez on her thigh. He wanted to hear her say it. 

“Yes, sir. I want more.” 

This time it was him that let out a moan as he pulled her back. He wanted more too, her skin, her warmth, he wanted to feel every part of her, and more than that, he wanted to make her feel good and watch her move and gasp with every new touch. She smelled like clove and she was soft, so soft he didn’t want to hurt her by gripping her too tight, but everytime he strengthened his grip he felt her lean further into it, deepening her intensity. He stopped her again, this time putting distance between them. “Stand up.” Chakotay ordered. He looked up at her and smiled with that warm inviting smile as she stood. “Good girl. I want you to take off your uniform, I want to look at you, will you do that?” 

“Yes sir.” She turned away from him, and when he started to speak out in protest she silenced him with a look. He was driving her wild with anticipation and now it was her turn. Very slowly she began to undo her clothes, leaving the back open for a few seconds before carefully pulling off one shoulder, then the other, and sliding out each arm purposefully, drawing the fabric down the length of her arms and past her hands, but holding up the front to keep herself covered. Then she slowly turned to face Chakotay. His expression was  intense, his lips parted at the sight of her and his hand was drawn up in his lap as if he was going to start pleasuring himself to her, but he stayed very still instead, watching her movements intently. She nearly forgot what she was doing when she saw him looking at her like that, like she was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. 

He waited patiently, saying nothing. She continued with her game, pulling the fabric slowly off each leg while holding the bulk of it in front of her with the other arm. Chakotay leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, eagerly watching her every move. Once the final items of clothing were removed, and she stood in front of him with only the drape of an empty uniform left to cover her, she took a step closer to him and left the last of the fabric to fall on the ground around her. He sat entranced in her shape only briefly before reaching up to grab her hand, pulling her into his lap. 

Her hands rested on his chest, and she straddled his lap. She was surprised at how comfortable he was physically, and how easy it was to follow his direction. It felt natural, like a game they were playing that they both knew the rules to, and she was fixated on his every next move. His hands began to move up her thighs, onto her hips, up her waist, and up the sides of her breasts to her shoulders. She held her breath, he wasn’t really touching her, not completely. Still dancing around the edges, making her wait, making her want him. One hand curled around the nape of her neck, and the other slid back down to her hips as she let out the breath she was holding in. 

“Look at you, you look stunning.” Both of his hands moved to her breasts and his feather light touch cupped them and brushed his thumbs over her nipples. She lifted her head back and groaned, reaching a hand down to touch herself, but Chakotay grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “No, not yet.” He was still softly stroking her hard nipple with his thumb while holding her wrist away from herself. 

“Please?” She let out a whimper. 

“Please what?” He said. 

“Please, I want yo-” She groaned again, interrupting her words and her thoughts with the feeling his hands were providing. 

He chuckled at her reaction to his touch and felt her squirm in his lap. “Please what?” he said again, and gently squeezed her breast in his hand, shifting his grip to use his index finger to tease her instead of his thumb. 

“Please, I want you to fuck me.” 

“Is that how you refer to me?” His hand moved up from her breast to her neck, with his index finger resting on the line of her jaw putting a small amount of pressure on her throat, just enough to notice. His other hand let go of her wrist daring her to try again, and moved to undo his own uniform. “You were doing so well before. If that’s really what you want then you’ll have to ask me the right way.” 

She watched as he unfastened his uniform and took the length of his cock into his hand, touching himself like he wouldn’t allow her to do, and she was breathless again. He pulled her face close to his with the hand around her neck, and continued to stroke the length of his shaft underneath her. She whimpered thinking about how good he would feel inside of her. He could feel the tension in her legs, and he knew she could only go so much longer before it would become too much. “Go on, say it.” He said between stolen kisses on her open mouth. 

“Please sir, I want you to fuck me.” 

Chakotay took his hand from himself and reached up to her pussy, feeling the wetness between her lips, sliding his fingers up onto her clit and massaging it slowly. She groaned deeply at his touch and her hips began to sway in motion with his fingers. “There, that wasn’t so hard. I want to hear you moan.” He worked his fingers faster on her clit and felt her body reacting in waves to the feeling. 

It felt so good, that’s really the best way to describe it. It felt so good and she felt herself move along with him, her muscles tensing and releasing with his changes in speed and pressure. “Mm it feels so good, don’t sto-” she moaned again, louder this time. And just as she was about to direct him not to, he stopped and pulled his hand away, back to himself. “You’re not done yet.” Bringing her up to that edge, watching her body, her face, he loved every second of it. With one hand still around her throat, he pushed her off his lap so they were both standing and kissed her deeply, letting his other hand explore her curves. 

“Wait.” It was her turn again. She pushed him away for a second and he waited to listen to her demands. “Let me take off your uniform.” He smiled as she moved her hands over the fabric, as slowly as she did for herself she unfastened his shirt and slid it off his broad shoulders, then moved to his undershirt, giving him light kisses on the stomach and chest as she pulled it up over his head. His pants, which were already partially undone, were the easiest to remove. She found herself laughing with him as he tried to step out of them after they pooled around his ankles, falling back onto the couch and taking her with him. Their laughter moved their bodies on one another in a way that brought her closer to him, and she could feel his warm skin against hers. She layed on top of him for a second, feeling him breathe, listening to his heart beat, and feeling his arms coil around her again.

His hands began to explore, and he felt her shifting on top of him. She sat up looking at him, and his hands slid back up to cup her breasts then back down again so his thumbs were resting on her sex. He began to rub her clit with his thumbs, watching her move to the feeling and moan. He reached for his cock with one hand, and pulled it up to slide between her pussy lips, not letting her have it inside her just yet, rubbing the tip against her clit and letting her wetness cover it’s length. She moaned, the most beautiful sound in the world, and grinded her hips back and forth over the length of his cock. She tried to reach down again to touch herself and intensify the feeling, but he pulled her wrist and sat up slightly, bringing both hands behind her back. “Not yet.” he whispered. He kissed up her neck, brushing his lips against her as he moved and she lifted her head back to feel his mouth and tongue on her skin. 

“You feel so good Bobbi.” Chakotay let out a moan, and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her around underneath him. His hips slid between her legs and he paused for another second, putting his hand back around her neck drawing her focus up at him. “Tell me what you want.”

She could barely form the words now, her head still spinning from the feeling of grinding on top of him. “I want to feel you inside of me, I want you to fuck me.” 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Her words were ringing in his ears …’yes, sir’... and he thrusted the length of his cock deep inside of her wet pussy, watching her face change as she gasped when he filled her. She moaned into his thrusts, and floated her hands up his arms onto his shoulders where she dug in her nails to his back. He felt her nails pierce his skin and thrusted deeper, and her hips matched his rhythm pushing herself harder onto him. His grip on her throat tightened slightly, and he pulled himself up to watch her body move and quiver. Her moans became louder and surrounded him, and he slowed his pace, carefully feeling every inch coming in and out of her. 

Her sex was like velvet, soft and hot around his cock, he moaned at the feeling of her legs beginning to shake. He came to a stop still inside of her and watched her hips squirm around him. Slowly pulling out, he took his hand off her neck and moved it back onto her clit, rubbing slow circles with the pads of his fingers. Waves of pleasure were washing over her as she moaned again. “Turn over.” he said, still rubbing her clit. She groaned and pushed her hips into his hand. He leaned down to kiss her, and said in a low voice in her ear, “You’re not listening, I said turn over.” taking his hand away sharply, and stroking himself instead again. She sat up to turn over, and he stopped her abruptly, thrusting his fingers inside of her pulling them towards her g-spot. “What do you say?” 

Her head was dizzy again, but she knew the words this time. “Yes sir.” she moaned. 

“Good girl.” Chakotay kissed her again. 

She turned over with one knee on the couch and the other leg extended down to the floor, not bothering to hold herself up, she let her back arch and her arms slide forwards above her head. His hands trailed her spine and the curve of her hips before he thrusted into her again. She let out a cry from the pleasure, the change in position reaching new parts of herself. He filled her again and again, grabbing her hips to thrust harder and deeper, listening to her cries and moans change with his changes. “Fuck” she moaned again, “Oh fuck” her body was starting to tense and quiver, and he responded thrusting faster. “Please, you feel so good” she mumbled into the cushion between gasps. 

It felt so good to be inside of her, but hearing her say it brought him over the edge. He started to moan, thrusting harder and deeper, and bent down over her to pull her further into him, reaching a hand around to massage her clit while she quivered and begged. He spoke into her ear again in that low commanding voice “Tell me again, the right way.” 

“You feel so good inside of me sir, please don’t stop” She barely made the sentence out before she started shaking again with waves of pleasure. 

Chakotay felt her orgasam around his cock from the tightening pulses, and slowed his pace to match her body. “Do you want me to keep going?” He asked gently, knowing she might not tolerate more. 

She lazily nodded her head, and mumbled into the cushion again “mhm.” 

He chuckled at her response, and paused inside of her. “Turn over again.” She did so without hesitation. “That’s not right, what do you say?” 

“Yes sir.” She smiled up at him, like she had almost gotten away with it. 

In that moment she had the most beautiful smile in the world. He couldn't help but kiss her again, and again, and trailed down her chest, and breasts, and stomach, kissing her all the way until his mouth found her sex. She gasped again, as he slowly dragged his tongue over her clit, moving softly and carefully. She tasted like heaven, and she squirmed as his tongue began to flick faster. He thrusted his fingers inside of her, and started to suck on her clit, looking up as her body moved and swayed with his actions. Her hands curled into his hair, pulling his face down into her pussy. He reached down with his other hand and stroked himself again, before sitting up and putting the length of his cock back inside of her. 

She let out another gasp, and he began to thrust rhythmically with her hips pushing into him. He stayed with his body pressed against hers this time, feeling her every movement. Her moans became more intense, and he moved faster letting out moans of his own from the feeling of her body pressed up against him. “I’m going to come.” no longer able to resist the feeling, he managed the words between thrusts. 

“I want you to cum inside me.” She responded, feeling the length of him and hearing his moans, knowing it was her turn again. 

He had no time to correct her with their little game, he could feel his orgasam pulsing in her as he thrusted deeply one last time, feeling the waves flow through him, and cumming inside of her. She could feel the heat from the cum running down onto her thighs, and the pulses in his cock as he remained still. They breathed deeply together, being still, feeling each other's breath, dizzy from the orgasams, and happy.

A small laugh escaped Bobbi as she felt the weight of Chakotay laying ontop of her, and he started to laugh too. Before they knew it they were both laughing together, a mess on the couch. She sat up with him and curled into his arms. It still felt so good to be touched, by someone, by anyone. They were all alone together in this quadrant, and neither of them knew exactly how much they needed it, that is right up until they knew how much they needed it.

[pussy-odo]

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[amilynh]

teddythecat1234 replied to your post: For the reader's ask: How did you find your first...

I’m not into Star Trek anymore either. I used to be into TNG when I was young and I stuck with it through DS9 (which I never enjoyed as much) and Voyager (which I liked much better), but Captain Picard will always be MY Captain and the Enterprise D is MY space ship. I never got into any of the later spinoffs.

I have seen all 78 eps of TOS, I saw all the movies up through First Contact (after the hand-off), and my friends and I even got all gussied up like we were going to the formal opera, and we called our opening-night First Contact even "Prom Trek" since none of us had gone to prom (NO regrets: we gave ZERO fucks), and so we made our own prom circa age 26-28 doing something we loved.

I watched TNG S1-S5, and then probably saw half of S6, and really not much afterwards, though I tuned in for the final ep (and was DEEPLY disappointed). My true love there was Beverly. (Ah, Gates McFadden, one of the three main people responsible for the realization of SO MANY of my generation's fans of, "Oh...I'm a *LESBIAN*!!" ...the others are Gillian Anderson and Linda Hamilton.).

I have heard SUCH good things about DS9, but I was at uni at the time, and it was one at, like, 3:30 on Saturday afternoons...and it would break up the day, and I'd forget...it was so inconvenient and non-intuitive that I never remembered to watch it, so I've only seen a smattering of eps (including OF COURSE the Mirror episodes...SO GOOD!). I wanted to like it, but timing worked against me.

I watched and LOOOOVED Voyager. I shipped Captn Katie and Chakotay SO hard..."Resolutions" OMG OMG. I was TRULY hopeful that they would address Captn Katie's escalating instability and risk-taking. And I was even MORE hopeful when they did the ep where she locked herself in her cabin for 3 months. I wanted to see them ADDRESS her severe depression and loss of sense of self when separated from the structure of Starfleet that she was so committed to and dependent on. I wanted to see the Doc relieve her of command in order to address and TREAT her depression...to acknowledge that she needed HELP rather than enabling her and ignoring it. But...they skirted that, as they skirted EVERYTHING they built up.

I hate Brannon Braga with the fiery passion of 10,000 suns. I mean, when he was asked, in S1, how they were going to handle when Tuvok inevitably went into Pon Farr, and THAT ASSHAT was like, "What? Pon what? ...OH! Oh, but that's from the OLD show and this is a different show, so that doesn't apply." WTF YOU ASSHOLE OMG YOU'RE PART OF A WIDER CONTINUITY....AAAARRRFGGHGGHH!!! And...then they DID do ...something with it...and it fell TOTALLY flat for me.

I watched S1-S5 (again), and I WANTED to like "The Year of Hell," but it just didn't LAND for me Because Reset. I LOVED the episode where it turned out that Barclay was able to communicate with them...that slender connection to their home...that was VERY cool. And I LIKED Seven...but I didn't like that stupid catsuit...nor did I like that it became the Seven Of Nine Show.

I loved B'Lanna and Tom. I loved how they DID handle HER response to the obliteration of the Maquis and addressed that she was deliberately engaging in dangerous behaviors. I just wish they'd ALSO done that with Captn Katie; she was ENDANGERING THE WHOLE SHIP. I did appreciate that they revisited the concept, but with another character.

A friend had the headcanon (which is really just logic) that the Delaney twins from Stellar Cartography could almost NEVER rest because, typically, on a small ship working in well-travelled areas, just how much does Stellar Cartography DO? ....And then suddenly they're in a TOTALLY UNMAPPED AREA...and they need to recruit DOZENS to help them do all the mapping of this entirely un-documented area...but there are only 120-140 PEOPLE on board...so they must have never slept.

I think they should NEVER EVER let Chakotay fly the shuttles; they couldn't REPLACE them...and he kept crashing or damaging them or (check out the Coffee Nebula) just, you know, ACCIDENTALLY LEAVING SHUTTLECRAFT BEHIND by flying down to the planet and then BEAMING BACK UP.

I missed it when they stopped emphasizing that there was a SHORTAGE of resources. When Janeway couldn't have her coffee? SO awesome. When Neelix was cooking weird variations of the same thing? SO GOOD. I missed that as they forgot that resources were limited and caution was SUPER necessary.

I watched the series finale and was like...Chakotay and SEVEN??? WTF??? And I wanted not to see it END with them returning...I wanted to see the conflict of "Now we're FINALLY back to Starfleet YAY!" ...and the realization that, after HAVING to function independently for so long, finding it VERY difficult to fit into the demands of a command structure again. I wanted to see the reaction to how things had changed in the Alpha Quadrant...the Maquis adjusting to the annihilation of the Maquis...SO many missed opportunities.

I tried to watch Enterprise. I tried. I mean...Scott Bakula. Hoshi. COOL stuff. And yet, they managed to make SCOTT BAKULA--a man who could make the cut of a dress look GOOD and who could sing, dance, play piano, play football...do ANYTHING (see: Quantum Leap) while seeming personable and likeable...they managed to make him BORING. WTF???? I thought Enterprise was a boringly hot mess...but their Mirror episodes were good. I mean...EMPRESS HOSHI? YES, PLEASE. And the ep where T'Pol told the story of her grandmother who got trapped on earth and "invented" velcro so that she could sell the patent and get money for the family who helped her (I call it the T'Nana episode because it was T'Pol's Nana, yo)...I liked that...but I liked the novel "Strangers from the Sky" better....and it's the same plot.

And since then, and especially with the reboot...I just have walked away; I've DONE my time with Trek. I am no longer enamoured, and yet I still appreciate it.

I REALLY love, even now, some of my favorite Pocket Books novels (from before Pocket made the rules so rigid that the novels were no longer just authorized fanfic). My FAVE ones are "The Entropy Effect," "Ishmael" (Barbara Hambly steathily got them to PUBLISH a Star Trek/Here Come the Brides crossover!!!! With Doctor Who jokes! And there's TIME TRAVEL!), and Jean Lorrah's PUBLISHED Sarek and Amanda novels (which ENTIRELY have the backstory that is from her zines that were my first serious fanfic knowing it was fanfic).

I'm forever grateful that Trek fandom was large enough and FINDABLE enough that it gave me the "in" that I needed, back when there was no internet, to FIND fandom, then to follow the bread crumb trails to the fans of OTHER shows I also loved.

[summahsunlight]

This Way Became My Journey, CH.1

Word Count: 3535

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay, Tom/OFC

Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay, Tom Paris, Sarah Barrett (OC), Harry Kim, B’Elanna Torres, Tuvok, Kes, Neelix, the Doctor

Against her better judgement, Kathryn Janeway has taken her children with her on the trip to the Badlands to track Chakotay and the Maquis rebels. But when the ship is thrown into the Delta Quadrant, Janeway is forced to join with the Maquis in order to survive the treacherous, unknown part of the galaxy.

Lowering her body with a heavy sigh, Captain Kathryn Janeway propped her feet up on the coffee table in the living room of her posh San Francisco apartment. It was quiet now, since her dog Molly had been sent to the kennel. She found that she missed that auburn ball of fur more than anything at that moment.

It had been a long day, securing everything before her next assignment. Between packing up some personal belongings and transporting back and forth to New Zealand, Kathryn found she was drained. This was her first deep space assignment in nearly two years. She had forgotten how much work went into the preparation for such an assignment not to mention the strings she had to pull to get a few extra things she believed she needed on this mission. Asking the Admiralty for a few favors was never an easy thing.

There was a knock on the door. For a moment she didn't respond, used to the chime of a starship. "Come in," she called out.

The large glass doors swung upon and she watched as Gabriel Dawson, a friend from her Academy days stepped down the marble steps towards her. "I thought you would be halfway to Deep Space Nine right now. Seeing you after you got that commission, I swore you were going to move in on Voyager immediately."

Kathryn laughed and gestured around her apartment. "I had a few things to clean up here first. Besides, I don't think Starfleet was quite ready for me to sit in that Captain's chair just yet."

Gabriel sat down on the sofa with her. "They're making the right decision. If anyone can track down the Maquis, it's Kathryn Janeway."

She chuckled. "Thanks for your vote in confidence in me; I'll note it in my log." Her face grew serious. "What brings you down here?"

"Just checking up on you," Gabriel said, his look matching hers. "This is your first deep space assignment since… the massacre at Ohniaka III."

The lighthearted mood that she had enjoyed was soon squelched at his mentioning of Ohniaka III. Images of the science station that had once been there flashed through her mind; images of its destruction as it was seen on the news vids, images of a long lost love.

Kathryn turned her blue eyes away from Gabriel. She tried not to think of his brother, Bryan Dawson, who had been a scientist at the outpost when it was attacked by the Borg. Thinking of Bryan brought such a strong urge to scream and cry that she very often found her self trying not to think about him. He had, after all, been her husband of four years when he had been killed along with all his colleagues. "I was holding up just fine until you said that."

"I'm sorry Kathryn," Gabriel said. "But you were my friend long before you were my sister in law. Can I help it if I still worry about you?"

She looked at him with sad eyes. Yes, it was true, he had been her friend; he had been the one to introduce Bryan and Kathryn a year or so after her father had died. Bryan had been a life savior, showing her that there was life after the loss of a loved one, but his death, at the hands of a ruthless enemy, had left a bitter taste in her mouth for so long. "I appreciate your checking up on me, but really I'm fine," Kathryn said, going to the food replicator to get a cup of coffee.

"Are you really? I spoke to your mother, she told me you had a hard time parting with the children," Gabriel replied, his eyes studying the back of her uniform. He saw her shoulders stiffen at the mentioning of her children. "I figured there would be some separation anxiety on their part, but yours Kathryn?"

She bit her lip before taking a sip of coffee. "It's my first time away from Ava for more than a week."

Gabriel pondered what she said for a moment. Kathryn had been devastated when his brother was killed. She had taken their son, Michael, on some trek across Earth, stopping in places like Paris, New York, the Bahamas. And then suddenly she cut the leave time that Starfleet had granted her short, dropped Michael off to her mother, and returned to the Billings. Unbeknownst to any of them at the time she had found out she was pregnant with Ava. Whether she was in denial or not, she refused to tell anyone, she had kept working, hard, to the point where it ended her up at Starfleet Medical with pregnancy complications. All her assignments after the baby's birth had been local, only assignments that stretched the span of a week. Being given command of her own ship, that had been something she had wanted for a long time, and he knew she had eagerly taken the Voyagercommission. "Ava will adjust. Children are resilient, Kathryn, much more than adults."

Kathryn looked at him. "I know. I'm afraid of her adjusting a little too much," the new Captain whispered. "Being given a command like this means I won't be going on short little missions; Voyager is a deep space vessel. How much am I going to get to see of her now that I have a highly advanced, deep space vessel in my command?"

"I thought you had talked to Admiral Patterson?" Gabriel questioned. "Didn't he approve of accommodations for the kids on the ship himself?"

"Yes, he single-handedly went to bat for me," Kathryn replied. "The Council wasn't too keen on my request, the building of the new rooms set back the launch date three weeks. But what else am I supposed to do? I'm a single parent with a job that takes me away far too often. I want to be able to see my children."

"You could get a post at Command," Gabriel said. "You'd make a great instructor at the Academy."

She smiled wistfully. "You know me Gabe; I'm not an office girl."

He returned the smile. "I know, I had to try, and I also know that Bryan didn't want you to give up your career to become a house wife. Why do you think he let you keep your name?"

"The name stayed because the clerk in Bloomington didn't know what she was doing," Kathryn replied her eyes narrowing a bit. "Instead of putting Janeway-Dawson as my new name, she put Dawson-Janeway as Bryan's." The memory played out in her mind. She had been so mad. And they had always meant to go back and fix it after they were married, however, Michael had been born, Wolf 359 had happened, and her assignment to the Billings. They never found the time to go back. We never found the time for a lot of things, Bryan, Kathryn thought sadly.

"How did New Zealand go?" Gabriel was asking her, trying to get her mind off of her late husband.

"It went," she said with a chuckle. "Tom Paris is as cocky and arrogant as his service record indicates. But, he's the only one in Starfleet who can help us track the Maquis."

"You're taking a big risk on him," Gabriel said. "He's a convicted traitor of the Federation."

"I've been told I'm taking a lot of risks on this assignment," Kathryn retorted.

"Lieutenant Barrett?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I was her council at her hearing, remember?" Gabriel said. He shook his head, remembering the burnt out, broken young woman who he had defended in a court martial for dereliction of duty. "Starfleet came down too hard on her, trying her like that. What she needed was the rehab not the brig time."

Kathryn set her cup down on the coffee table. "You got her that rehab time, Gabe. You opened the door for someone like me to take a risk on her. Besides, my father worked with hers. He was a good officer. I think Jason Barrett's daughter deserves a second chance, don't you?"

"You know I do, but she's only been out, what six months?"

"Yes, your point?"

"She could relapse."

Kathryn scoffed. "Not on my shift."

Good damn it Kathryn, why are you so stubborn! The Captain's personal computer was beeping, indicating an incoming message. She rose from the sofa and went to turn the console on. It was resting on a small end table towards the back of the living room. From his seat he could see an image of Gretchen Janeway appear, she looked hassled, in the background a baby was crying, it was Ava.

"Mom?" Kathryn asked concerned. She could hear her baby screaming in the background and it was breaking her heart that she couldn't be there to comfort the child.

"Katie," Gretchen breathed. "I think you need to meet me at the transporter station. Ava's got an ear infection."

"A what?"

"An ear infection. I can't get her to calm down, she's been screaming for you for hours, and no matter how much pain reliever I give her, it doesn't help. She needs to see her doctor, Katie," Gretchen replied. "We could be there in ten minutes, as long as you meet us at the station. I can't very well traipse through San Francisco with a screaming baby, now can I?"

Kathryn closed her eyes. She was due to leave in two hours for Deep Space Nine. There was no way she was going to get an appointment with the children's doctor now. Making a split second decision, that she was sure she would regret at some point later down the road, she told her mother to pack bags for the kids; they were coming with her on Voyager.

"Welcome aboard Voyager, Lieutenant Barrett."

Sarah Barrett noticed a middle aged man in command reds standing at the base of the transporter pad. Reaching back into her mind to place him from all the personnel files that she had shuffled through the past few days, she offered him her hand. "Commander Cavit, it's nice to meet you sir." God, I hope I'm right about who this is, she thought as the man took her hand and shook it.

"Likewise, Lieutenant," Cavit said to her, in a professional tone. He released her hand and gestured for her to follow. "Captain Janeway sends her regrets, but will not be able to meet with you until later. She is…busy tending to other things."

The tone of his voice suggested that he wasn't happy about what these other things were. "That's alright, sir. I can meet with her at her earliest convenience. Actually, Starfleet Command wanted me to meet with you as well, regarding our observer."

"Oh yes, him," Cavit scoffed, pressing a button to open the turbo lift's doors. The two officers stepped inside and she waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. He looked mutely ahead while the lift ascended. An awkward silence passed between them.

She decided to break the ice. "I know what the feelings are regarding Mister Paris. Starfleet command just wanted me to make sure that everyone on this ship is willing to put those feelings aside to get the job done."

Cavit glared at her. "Miss Barrett, I can assure you that this crew is not going to let their feelings for a convicted felon get in the way of their duties."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Computer halt turbo lift," Cavit ordered. The lift came to a halt and he turned to fully face her. "I'm aware of your history Lieutenant. You have some nerve questioning me when it comes to duty."

Sarah knew when she had pushed too many buttons. "I'm sorry sir. You're right. If this crew is any reflection of Captain Janeway, she would insist that her crew treats Mister Paris with respect, there fore not allowing him to interfere with their duties."

He set his jaw and ordered the computer to resume. The lift started to move again and they rode the rest of the way to the deck where her office was stationed in tense silence. When they got to the office she noticed that he had been carrying a couple of PADDs in his hand. She was surprised when he handed them to her. "These are additions to the crew roster. I suggest that you look them over briefly and then report to the Bridge. We'll be leaving in a couple of hours."

Sarah scanned the PADDs and realized that the new additions to the roster were children, the Captain's children. "Kids? Starfleet is letting kids on this mission?" This wasn't a Galaxy class starship; there were no accommodations for children. Why would Starfleet ever let kids on this ship?

"Apparently Captain Janeway has a few supporters at Command. Apparently Admiral Patterson approved of it himself," Cavit replied. "Believe me, Counselor, I'm not any more thrilled than you are about this, but it's not my place to question Captain Janeway… on her parenting skills."

"I'm not questioning it either, but as far as I'm aware, Kathryn Janeway has never taken her kids on any mission with her," Sarah said, recalling information from the Captain's personnel file. "Why the sudden change of heart, sir?"

Cavit's reply was curt. "I don't know."

Sarah's eyes fell on the reports again, reading bits and pieces. The children's lives hadn't been easy to say the least, shuffled between their mother's apartment in San Francisco and their grandmother's home in Indiana. Before that even, the oldest, a boy, had lived with his father on some science station. Maybe Kathryn Janeway was tried of the shuffling or maybe it was just another commanding officer using their influence to get their family on board their ship. Sarah's father had done the same, when he was the Captain of the Alaska. Who said being of higher rank didn't have their perks?

She had hated every minute of living on that ship. Being told that Janeway's children would be making the trip brought back old memories of lying around crew quarters bored out of her mind as a child. "I don't suppose more kids are coming on board, sir? After all, someone else must want their children with them besides the Captain."

"Your displeasure of the situation will be duly noted in my log, Lieutenant," Cavit replied, ignoring her sarcastic tone, and turning about. "I'll see you on the Bridge."

Sarah disappeared inside of her office, dropping her travel bag. It landed on the floor with a thud. She dropped the PADDs Cavit had given her onto the glass desk and went to look out the window. Taking a deep calming breath she was glad that it had been Cavit to inform her of the children and not Janeway. She was certain the Captain would not have taken kindly to her…reactions. Maybe there was some circumstance that Kathryn Janeway was forced to take the children with her. Their grandmother was sick and she had no last minute child care, they were dropping the children off along the way to stay with family; she had let her temper get the best of her without knowing all the facts.

And besides this was only a three week trip. If they were staying on the ship the whole time the children could be sent back to their grandmother when they returned to Earth. Better to find out the whole story before jumping to conclusions Barrett, she chided her self. If she was lucky she'd get that whole story when she met with the Captain later.

Which reminded her, she had to catch up on Tom Paris'. Reaching for her bag, she pulled the zipper open. Inside where a few uniforms and what seemed like hundreds of thousands of PADDs, it however, did not take her long to find the one she was looking for. She had placed his on top.

Settling down onto the sofa, she scrolled through the report. Their observer certainly was an interesting read. His history was not that different from her own; child of an Admiral, attended the Academy and had been involved in a controversial incident. Here the history veered differently from her course. He had been ushered out of Starfleet, due to his cover up and joined the Maquis. She wondered briefly if she hadn't been so forth coming with her drug addiction if they would have ushered her out of Starfleet as well.

Tossing the PADD down she left that thought for another day and another time. She had to report to the Bridge and prove to Cavit and who ever else doubted her abilities, that she was capable. It was time to start all over again.

"Master Thomas, we weren't expecting you."

"Don't worry Nadia," Thomas Eugene Paris commented as he stepped into his parents' home for the first time in years. "I wasn't expecting me either. Is my father home?"

The hall was just as he remembered it; his mother hadn't changed it in years. An oil painting of the Paris' family still hung on the wall; his father dressed in a crisp, Starfleet uniform, his mother an elegant dress of red. Tom was eight at the time the portrait was made; he was wearing a dress suit, standing behind his sitting mother, a hand draped over her shoulder. His sisters were seated on the floor in front. Tom had spent countless hours staring at that portrait as a child, wondering how the painter had captured a happy family when really it was a suffocating atmosphere, at least for Tom. He could never live up to his father's expectations.

Nadia, their housekeeper for years, looked anxious. "No, no, he's at Command. He won't be home until late."

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets. He hadn't come to see his father anyways, he'd come to see his mother. After being cashiered out of Starfleet he'd cut ties with his mother and his sisters. He'd been ashamed of what he'd done but too proud to admit he was ashamed. "I actually came to see my mother. Is she here?"

"Oh yes, Miss Erin is home," Nadia replied, closing the front doors and ushering Tom into the drawing room, his mother's favorite place to entertain. "I'll go get her."

He was left alone the large drawing room, standing amongst his mother's treasured antique furniture. As a child he hadn't been allowed in this room because of all the valuables; his parents thought his rough and tumble ways would surely break something. Which, now that he thought about, would probably have come true if he'd been allowed in here. Now that he was in the room he realized it wasn't such an extraordinary room after all. In the mind of a nine year old, because it was off limits it was, but really it was a space filled with useless, delicate, old furniture and art.

Tom crossed his arms over his chest and his fingers impacted with the combadge that had been issued to him prior to catching his transport to Deep Space Nine. He wasn't used to wearing a Starfleet uniform, hell he never thought he'd been in one again. Captain Kathryn Janeway had insisted on the uniform and badge, yet she wouldn't let him fly the ship. Tom had to admit that Janeway was attractive in a sort of authoritative way.

"Thomas, what are you doing here? If your father knew you'd stopped by," Erin Paris said as she entered the room.

Tom turned to smile half-heartedly at his mother. "I won't be here long Mom."

"What are you doing in that uniform? Did they let you back into Starfleet?" Erin inquired, straightening his collar.

"I'm doing the Federation a favor. They need me to track down the Maquis."

"Oh, them," Erin huffed. "Haven't they caused you enough trouble?"

"Mom, I got myself into trouble."

"If your father hadn't pushed you in the first place—"

"Mom," Tom interrupted, "I didn't come here to listen to you blame Dad for my mistakes. I came here to tell you that once I get back from this mission I'm taking the first transport out of the Federation. There are plenty of independent traders out there that could use good pilots."

Erin looked horrified. "What about the rest of your sentence?"

"Captain Janeway promised she'd help me at my parole hearing at the end of the month. If I find Chakotay, I get the hell out of that prison," Tom snapped.

"Thomas, you can't be serious about this, leaving Earth, permanently?" Erin gasped.

"I am."

"But...that's ridiculous."

Tom felt drained and he'd only been there for fifteen minutes. "You know something, Mom, I don't know why I came," he breathed, turning about and leaving the room. He had a transport to catch. Swinging the front door open with a dramatic pull he turned slightly to face her. "Tell Dad I said hello and good-bye; I'll be in touch." And with that he slammed the door in her face and hurried down the driveway, making his way for the transport station. He didn't even look back once.

[joshuaalbert]

I feel like they kind of fail to progress with tuvok a lot? or like they do and then it resets whenever they need to do another story with him. I totally would have bought this conflict between him and neelix in 3x19 rise about him never appreciating neelix’s skillset if it had been a season 1 episode, but I don’t feel like it works at all post tuvix even if they don’t 100% have his memories.

[blue-mint-winter]

Thank you for this post, Neelix needs more appreciation :)

aside from the kes thing, i really still don't understand where all the hate for neelix comes from and it makes me really sad actually because all i see is this character who lost his family in a great tragedy and suddenly this crew of aliens adopt him as part of their own family. so what does he do? he gives constantly by feeding voyager and offering a shoulder to anyone who needs it (not to mention being a parent to naomi) because it seems like he feels he can't repay them enough for their kindness and that's why he takes on the role of 'ambassador' because not only is it what he's good at, but because he wants help whenever it's possible. even tuvok eventually likes him, in his own way, and sees him as a valued member of the crew despite the fact that their personalities clash and they end up butting heads most of the time.

long rant. idk why it's making me sad, i think it's because i relate to this character in how much he tries to make everyone happy? he's not a pushover either which is really nice to see as an examole of kindness not equating to weakness. he has his flaws but they come with all his virtues