On the surface, she seems much better today, but I know that it's just because we are busy - we have a lot of work to catch up on. I know that when things quiet down, her troubling thoughts will return. But we have been at this for hours now, and I can't suppress a sigh.
"What's the matter, is it a poorly-written report?" she asks, with a slight smile. "Must be one of 'your' people . . "
It is an old joke - just between the two of us - her teasing me about the superiority of 'her' Starfleet crew at anything from report writing to volleyball. Happy with the brief respite, I banter back, "It's B'Elanna's Engineering report, and there isn't a thing wrong with it - I just can't see straight anymore." I peer over her shoulder, "What are you reading?"
"The Shuttle Maintenance report," she replies, "impeccably written in perfect Starfleet format. I can ALWAYS tell when it's one of mine."
"Ensign Phillips?" I ask, suspiciously.
"Mmm-hmm," she replies, absently, continuing to read.
I look over at her, trying to see if she is kidding.
"Kathryn, Phillips was one of mine."
Stunned silence. Then she smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand and turns towards me, incredulous.
"That's right! I forgot, Chakotay!" She is as surprised as I am, and also a little embarrassed. "How could I have forgotten?"
"It's all right, Kathryn," I tell her, "It's been so many years now . . . I think it's kind of nice, actually, that the line has become so indistinct."
She leans her head back against the couch cushion, and for a few minutes, we are silent - both lost in the memories of our earliest days in the Delta Quadrant. My mind wanders farther back - to my numbered days as Maquis Captain on the Liberty.
"Kathryn?"
"Hmm?" She has closed her eyes, and put down her PADD, which is always a good thing.
"Have you ever wondered how the Maquis crew was able to adapt so readily to serving aboard Voyager?"
She smiles wryly, but keeps her eyes closed. "I always assumed that it was some combination of my brilliant leadership and your complete selflessness."
"Well, that too," I say, with a grin. "But, actually, Tuvok had a lot to do with it."
"Tuvok?!" Her eyes open.
I smile. Now I know that I have her undivided attention, so I begin my
tale. . .
* * *
Tuvok studied the situation and considered his options. There did not
seem
to be many. The Maquis group that he had infiltrated had responded to a
distress call from a moon in the DMZ. The small Bajoran outpost had been
attacked by a Cardassian raiding party. He had beamed down with
Chakotay -
the Maquis Captain, Torres and Phillips. Upon their arrival, they had
found
several bodies and only two dazed survivors, a woman and her son. They
had
assumed that other members of the colony had been taken as prisoners.
There
were no ships in sensor range, so they had also assumed that the
Cardassians
had left the system.
But then three Cardassian soldiers had ambushed them. In the ensuing
chaos,
Tuvok had been separated from the other Maquis. He'd watched as
Chakotay,
Torres and Phillips were overpowered, bound and thrown into a small
shack.
He no longer had a weapon - it had been lost in his efforts to find
cover.
Two of the Cardassian soldiers were standing by the entrance of the
shack,
with weapons drawn, while the third was questioning the Bajoran woman
survivor. No one seemed to be looking for him, and he suspected that
the
Cardassians did not know that they had missed someone.
Tuvok was uncertain as to how Starfleet would want him to proceed at
this
point. The Maquis' original mission here had been a humanitarian one,
but
now that the Cardassians were directly involved, he felt
certain that Starfleet would want him to remain neutral and uninvolved
if at
all possible. He couldn't signal the Maquis ship, the Liberty, and he
believed it likely that it had been surprised as well, and was currently
engaged in combat.
He decided that he would remain hidden for now. If the Liberty managed
to
send down a rescue party, he could claim that he had been rendered
unconscious in the original attack, and continue his undercover
mission. If
the Maquis were defeated, he would have to identify himself to the
Cardassians and have them confirm his story and return him to Deep Space
Nine, the nearest Federation facility.
From Tuvok's vantage point among some rocks and scraggly shrubs on a
small
rise, he could see and hear the Cardassian questioning the bound Bajoran
woman. His voice was calm and reasonable, almost friendly. He wanted to
know
if there were any other colonists, and where they might be concealed.
Tuvok
had been extensively trained as a security officer in Starfleet and was
an
expert in the art of interrogation. He could tell immediately, judging
by
the woman's frightened and direct responses, that she knew nothing. He
was
certain that the Cardassian knew this as well, and anticipating the end
of
the questioning, remained alert to whatever changes would occur.
Tuvok's attention was drawn to the Bajoran boy, also bound at the
wrists,
who stood near his mother, but seemed oblivious to her distress. He
appeared
to be approximately seven standard years of age - old enough so that he
should have been frightened under the circumstances. Instead, he stood
fidgeting - his mind seemed to be elsewhere. He was talking to himself -
completely focused within. It was obvious to Tuvok that the boy had some
type of developmental disorder.
The boy reminded him of his own child, Elieth, his youngest son, who had
been born with a synaptic dysfunction. He had never been able to
process his
thoughts properly, had never been able to grasp the dictates of logic.
On
Vulcan, such children were not shunned, for it would not be logical to
hold
them responsible for the way that they had been born. With appropriate
guidance and training, Elieth's creative and artistic abilities had
flourished, and now, as an adult, he was an accomplished musician. But
raising Elieth had been extremely difficult for Tuvok, and had required
more
patience and understanding than he seemed to possess at times.
Tuvok returned his attention to the interrogation when he noticed a
change
in the Cardassian's tone and demeanor. It was clear that the woman knew
nothing, yet the Cardassian continued to harass her. His voice had
become
subtly threatening. Tuvok could see no purpose to the Cardassian's
actions -
there was nothing more to be gained from questioning this woman. It was
not
logical.
The Cardassian turned abruptly to the boy. "What is wrong with him?"
Tuvok
heard him snidely ask the woman. He could not make out her response,
but he
tensed as the Cardassian circled the child, smiling in a manner that
even a
Vulcan could see was insincere. He began speaking to the boy - taunting
him.
Asking him rhetorical questions, such as "How do you suppose I might get
your mother to be a little more cooperative?" The two Cardassians who
were
guarding the shack laughed. The boy merely cocked his head, and smiled
uncertainly, clearly confused.
Tuvok began to survey the immediate area, looking for something that he
might use as a weapon. He knew that technically he should not
interfere, but
the Cardassian soldier was not behaving in a rational manner, and he was
beginning to think that he might have a moral obligation to assist the
woman
and her son. He was certain that Captain Janeway would agree, and would
support his decision to Starfleet, if need be.
He heard the woman say, her voice shaking, "Please, he knows nothing -
leave
him alone!"
At this, the Cardassian became enraged. He moved threateningly towards
her
and shouted directly into her face, "YOU are in no position to make
requests. WHERE ARE THEY?"
The woman began to cry, "There's no one left! There's no one!"
The shouting was agitating the boy, who began to moan incoherently, and
moved toward his mother in fear and uncertainty. The Cardassian spun
around
and kicked the boy savagely. The boy shrieked and crumpled to the
ground,
holding his leg in anguish.
Tuvok spotted a stretcher that the Maquis had brought down lying nearby
and
moved toward it quickly. He could not allow this to continue. He
removed
one of the straps and determined that it was of adequate heft and
length to
be used as a makeshift ahn-woon. He made his way down the small hill
rapidly, moving from the cover of one shrub to another. There was no
need
for careful stealth, as the events unfolding below were loud and
distracting.
The boy was sobbing and had a stunned expression on his face. Clearly,
he
had never before been exposed to this kind of cruelty. The Cardassian
was
shouting, "SHUT UP!" at the boy, again and again. From the open window
of
the shack in which the Maquis had been confined, Tuvok could hear
Chakotay
trying in vain to reason with the Cardassians. Torres was swearing in
both
Klingon and Standard. Tuvok noted absently that he was unfamiliar with
several of the epithets.
The woman was screaming frantically now, a piercing sound, and the
Cardassian had a disruptor trained on the boy. He was shouting, "SHUT
UP, OR
I WILL KILL HIM." The boy continued to sob loudly, and the Maquis were
still shouting desperately from the shack. Tuvok knew without a doubt
that
in the chaos, the Cardassian would kill. He sprung out from behind a
large
rock at the base of the hill, spinning the ahn-woon over his head.
Before
the Cardassian could react, Tuvok released one end of the makeshift
bola and
wound it around the Cardassian's legs. As the Cardassian fell to the
ground
heavily, he leveled his disruptor at Tuvok's head. But he never got the
chance to fire, as with two sharp and perfectly placed blows, Tuvok
broke
his neck. As a Vulcan, he preferred the path of peace, but when given a
motive, he was capable of killing, logically and efficiently. Taking the
Cardassian's weapon, Tuvok fired in rapid succession at the two soldiers
guarding the shack. They never even had the opportunity to draw. Had the
weapon been set on stun, their lives would have been spared, but that
was
not the case. Tuvok did not experience any remorse.
The ensuing silence was palpable in contrast to the earlier confusion.
Tuvok
knelt beside the boy, who was now rocking back and forth on his knees,
wide-eyed with shock. Unbinding the boy's hands, Tuvok quickly assessed
that
the boy was bruised, but otherwise uninjured, at least physically.
Looking
directly into his eyes, Tuvok took both of the child's hands and moved
them
gently until they were clasped with the index fingers extended and
touching.
This meditation technique had always calmed and centered Elieth.
Placing two
of his fingers on the boy's temple, Tuvok cautiously touched his mind -
just
a brush of contact, of reassurance. Slowly the boy's eyes began to
really
focus on Tuvok's face. After a moment, he tilted his head quizzically,
smiled and gingerly reached out and touched Tuvok's ear. Tuvok nodded,
satisfied. He knew that the boy would be resilient - children such as
him,
and Elieth, were stronger than most people would expect.
Tuvok quickly set about the business at hand, unbinding the woman, and
then
moving to the shack to release the Maquis.
"We thought you'd been killed!" Torres exclaimed.
"Thank God you were able to come when you did," Chakotay added,
gratefully,
looking over towards the woman, who now sat, crying quietly, holding her
son. "I've haven't felt that helpless in. . .in a long time." Tuvok nodded
in
acknowledgement, noting the haunted tone of the Maquis Captain's voice.
At that moment, they were hailed by the Liberty, which had indeed been
engaged by a small Cardassian vessel. The Cardassian's had retreated
for the
moment, so they quickly beamed aboard and left the DMZ, bringing along
the
two survivors.
~*~
They returned the woman and her son to Bajor, where they had family -
Tuvok
accompanied them to the transporter room. Just before they beamed down,
the
boy reached for Tuvok. He was unable to articulate it, but Tuvok
understood
that he wanted to feel the connection again. So, once more, Tuvok
touched
the boy's thoughts and imparted to him a simple Vulcan blessing, 'Walk
in
peace.' The boy was still smiling when they dematerialized.
Later, Tuvok sat in the mess hall of the Maquis ship, eating his evening
meal in solitude, as was his custom. He wanted to spend some time in
quiet
contemplation of the events of the day, but was unable to concentrate.
Some
of his Maquis shipmates were sitting at a nearby table. He had observed
that
they seldom ate in silence, and this night was no different. The topic
of
conversation was the Cardassians, and the tone was angry.
"That Cardassian PIG enjoyed tormenting that poor boy!" Torres spat,
slamming her glass down on the table.
"They're all like that!" Dalby replied. "They don't have any morals."
"How can an entire species be so sadistic?" Phillips asked.
"The entire species is not sadistic." The quiet voice came from another table where Chakotay was sitting, immersed in the latest intelligence reports. Tuvok noted that, as always, when Chakotay spoke, the Maquis settled and listened to him respectfully.
"Rank and file Cardassians are not very much different from any of us," Chakotay continued, "but aggressive behavior and arrogance are rewarded in their military system. The ones who rise to the upper echelons tend to be intelligent, manipulative and often, unfortunately, cruel without remorse."
"Indeed." Tuvok interjected suddenly. All of the Maquis turned to look at him in some surprise. He generally kept to himself, both because it was his preference and because he did not wish to jeopardize his undercover mission. This time he felt compelled to join the conversation, however, because Chakotay's observation was one that he had made as well.
"It is not logical to encourage such erratic and irrational behavior in your top military personnel," Tuvok continued. "And it is why I am certain that the Cardassian Empire will not be able to ultimately maintain their power in this quadrant."
Several of the Maquis murmured their assent and gradually began conversing among themselves again. But Chakotay's eyes remained locked on Tuvok from across the room. Tuvok raised his eyebrows and Chakotay smiled and nodded slowly at him in acknowledgement.
As Tuvok returned his attention to his meal, he considered what had just transpired and realized that he was beginning to respect this Maquis Captain. Tuvok still did not approve of the Maquis - he believed that Starfleet's Cardassian treaty, while flawed, was the approach that had the best chance of success. But if the events of the day were any indication, he could see how the dictates of logic may not always be adequate in the DMZ - could see how the line between wrong and right could become blurred. And
while he still did not agree with this man, Chakotay, for the first time he was beginning to understand him, and his mission.
* * *
I suddenly notice that she is beside me. While I was talking, she must have climbed up onto the couch. I take her hand and we sit together quietly - I give her time to reflect on the story before I speak again.
"I had never gotten a 'feel' for Tuvok in those days on Liberty - certainly didn't have any idea why he was there. Back then, I was happy to get whatever help I could, and I didn't ask as many questions as I should have. But that night, there was definitely a connection between us. I respected him after that - I trusted him, and so did the other Maquis. And even after I found out that he'd been a spy on my ship, I remembered this incident, and I knew that I had seen inside Tuvok, just a glimpse. I knew that we
really weren't all that different. The other Maquis felt the same way about him. We were all angry when we found out that he had been planning to betray us to the Federation, but there was a deference there as well - because we had already accepted him on a very basic level."
"He told me some of this story, actually," she says, "just a few days after I destroyed the array. Turned himself in, so to speak. I told him that he'd done the right thing, and that I would support him with Starfleet, although I don't think that would really have been necessary. But he didn't mention
the Bajoran boy, although I know all about Elieth, of course."
"I'm not really surprised that he didn't mention the boy," I say. "I think that he had a soft spot in his Vulcan heart for that boy. He knew that you would see that."
She nods her head, still lost in thought.
"Actually, I saved the best part of this story for last." I say, and she looks at me expectantly. "I had finally gotten to my feet in that shack, and made my way over to the window. So I saw him break that Cardassian's neck, and fire at the other two. When it was over, he was beside that boy in an instant. I watched him move the boy's hand into the Vulcan meditation position, and I saw him touch the boy's forehead. I knew that he was touching his mind, and I knew what an intensely personal thing that is
for a Vulcan. It wasn't something that he had to do. And here's the thing. The boy reached up and touched Tuvok's ear, and I saw Tuvok smile."
She looks at me in disbelief. "Tuvok does NOT smile," she says, dubiously.
"Oh, he denied it, too, when we discussed this incident later," I say. "But I know what I saw. I was looking right at his face. I saw gentle affection in his eyes, and I saw a very small, but unmistakable smile. And I'll never forget it, either. Because it was so unexpected, it was one of the warmest,
most beautiful things that I have ever seen."
At this, Kathryn smiles too - and there are tears in her eyes. And I know that tonight, I have reached her. Because this isn't the kind of smile that she flashes on the bridge - the smile that is a part of her command persona. And it isn't even the kind of smile that she gives me in our lighter teasing moments. This is the lopsided, tearful smile that comes from her heart - the smile that I fell in love with. And in a month like this one, when she feels the weight of the entire quadrant on her shoulders, this smile is also a
rare and beautiful thing to see.
The Dictates of Logic
by Mary Wiecek
Dedication: For my Danny, who sees a 'cloud house' where others see a
concrete observation tower.
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