Free Violations by Susan Wright

Captain?”
    She gestured a denial. “Let’s wait for the next lift, shall we?”
    “Certainly.”
    Janeway appreciated his unquestioning assent. A screen on the side of the depot showed a real-time image of the three ships that were tethered to the docking spire. Voyager was just disappearing as the view rotated to show the pudgy freighter. At the bottom of the screen, the vessel was listed as the Oonon, with the processing code and House alignment following. The excessive coils of electrocable encircling the Oonon took on a new meaning in light of her frustrating encounter with Andross—it seemed as if the crew of the Oonon were afraid their ship would be stolen right out from under them, even while they were in dry dock. Janeway tried to suppress her feelings of persecution, knowing that was not a position of strength. She needed to deal from strength.
    The Yawkin vessel swung into view, and she waited impatiently to see Voyager again. Her proprietary pride was rewarded when the sleek lines of her ship appeared, reminding her of the last time she’d seen Voyager docked at a space station. That was in the Alpha Quadrant, on Deep Space Nine. Tuvok hadn’t been with her then—it was before they had located him and the Maquis, before they were transported seventy thousand light-years away.
    Janeway didn’t mention it to Tuvok. The one (if only) thing the Vulcan had in common with Tom Paris was a facade of indifference at being so far away from Federation space. Indeed, one could make the argument that Paris was better off in this quadrant, but that wasn’t true of Tuvok. She knew he missed his family. They all wanted to return home, and she wondered if she had let her own desire lull her into taking unacceptable risks.
    Tuvok glanced from her to the screen. “We will find a way home, Captain.”
    She had to smile at his perception—even in the midst of chaos, some things never changed. “Was I thinking that loud?”
    His expression softened into what could almost be considered affection.
    “I know my captain,” he said simply.
    Janeway stared at the image of Voyager, curving out of view again. “I hope you also know the gift of prophecy, Tuvok.”

Chapter 6
    The first thing Chakotay saw when he returned to the bridge was Tom Paris in his undershirt, lounging in the captain’s chair. He was surrounded by the power-dead husks of half a dozen tricorders.
    Several hours later, Paris was almost done recharging the tricorders from a portable unit he had carried up six flights from storage.
    Chakotay wasn’t surprised Paris hadn’t thought of it on his own, but he did take satisfaction in watching the young man work so hard.
    With one of the powered-up tricorders in hand, Chakotay was telling the Cartel clerk in Ship’s Services, “I’ll give you the entire Denarii subspecies and the Hoop-sted Marn for three cycles…”
    The commander turned in time to see Janeway emerge from the access tube, followed by Tuvok. The captain’s delighted surprise at his presence on the bridge was a stark contrast to the monotone reply over the tricorder: “Your credit-offer is being considered. Please stand by.”
    “Good to have you back, Number One,” Janeway said, as Chakotay stood up. “How are you?”
    “I could have returned to duty as soon as I regained consciousness.”
    He didn’t mention that his recovery had been accompanied by drawn-out, demonic hallucinations that had contained recurring symbols as well as some he’d never seen before. The doctor’s delay in releasing him from sickbay had given him plenty of time to meditate on the dreams and come to terms with their presence in his life, if not their exact meaning.
    “I ordered everyone in sickbay to return to duty when I realized how badly the doctor is malfunctioning. It’s a good thing Kes is there. I recommend putting her in charge of sickbay.”
    “Agreed.” Janeway’s gaze dropped to his unbuttoned collar. “Are you sure you’re all right? You