She walked the ship. It was a luxury the Delta quadrant did not often afford; most of the time, danger slipped up on them so quickly there was no opportunity for her indulge in this, one of the most ancient prerogatives of starship captains. On the eve of battle, the captain walked the ship, from stem to stern – or in Voyager’s terms, from deck 15 to the bridge. In part, the walk was to provide reassurance to the crew. In part, it was her chance to commune with Voyager. No one but another captain could understand what her ship meant to her.

It took more than three hours, all told, although it would have been shorter if Herron had not cornered her at the onset with his latest theory on cosmic unity. When she finally sat down at her desk, she was physically tired but spiritually refreshed. There were times – and she would never admit this to anyone, except possibly Chakotay, and that was iffy – that she was certain Voyager was listening to her. And answering, in its own way.

Her desk computer was flashing an urgent message, and she pulled it up immediately. "Please call me when you have finished your rounds. Chakotay."

She leaned back and frowned. She had not told him that she was "rounding" the ship. Nor had she encountered him on her travels. How did he know?

Then she shook her head. Of course he knew. With a mental shake, she hit her commbadge. "Janeway to Chakotay."

"Captain. If you’re free, could you join me in holodeck 1?" His voice was bland, giving away nothing.

"I’m tired, Commander. Can it wait?"

"Not under the circumstances. It won’t take long, but it is important."

For a moment, she considered denying the request. He was probably going to object to some aspect of tomorrow’s mission, possibly to all of it, and she didn’t want to fight that fight now. But, she reminded herself, he’s not opposed to it. He understands the chance we have here perfectly. "On my way."

As soon as she walked into holodeck 1, she stopped short. He was running the Sandrine’s program, and stood near the pool table. It had been a long time since that pool table had been seen by anyone. First the program had been damaged, then restored with a dance floor where the table had been. Now its mahogany sides gleamed in the soft light, and the balls were racked and ready.

Chakotay looked at her with an enigmatic expression. She stopped, still wary of his intent. "Are you going to try to talk me out of this?" she asked. Even to herself, she sounded more tired than angry. She was tired, tired of having to argue with him on all the big decisions.

He shook his head. "No. I might, if I saw any other options, but there aren’t any. This is our best chance to cripple the Borg, maybe permanently." He lifted a hand and gestured toward the bar. "I thought you might join me in a drink."

A bottle filled with a deep amber liquid sat on the bar, flanked by two snifters holding a fingerful of the same liquid. She was so relieved that he didn’t want to challenge the decision that she smiled, and felt quite relaxed as she went to the bar and picked up one of the snifters. "Hmm," she said appreciatively. "Brandy. Not synthehol, either."

"I picked it up on Norcadia, before things went to hell. The Norcadians may have atrocious taste in entertainment, but they make good brandy. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion."

"I’m honored." Her smile faded, and she set the glass down. "If this doesn’t work…"

Her voice trailed off. He waited to see if she would complete the thought, but she just looked away from him. "Don’t worry," he said. "It’s going to work."

She shook her head. "There is so much that could go wrong."

"You sound… apprehensive."

"I’m scared, Chakotay. I’d be a fool if I wasn’t." There were very few people in any quadrant of the galaxy to whom she would admit that, but he was one of them. It was a relief, she realized, to have someone with whom she did not need to be the infallible captain all the time.

He smiled slightly. "How many times have you said to me, all we need is the resolve to see it through. I doubt there anyone in the universe with more resolve than you, Tuvok and B’Elanna. You’ll do it."

"But if it doesn’t work," she leaned forward, her eyes shining intensely, "don’t let the ship be taken. Do whatever you have to, but don’t let the Borg assimilate this crew."

Slowly, he nodded. "I understand."

Relieved, she leaned back. "I’m counting on that, Commander." She picked up the glass in front of her, then looked toward the pool table. "Are you up for a game?"

He smiled. "Could be. But first – a toast." She raised a quizzical eyebrow but waited as he raised his glass. "To the Admiralty."

It was the last thing she had expected. "The Admiralty?"

"Yes." He paused, then smiled. "They should thank whatever gods they acknowledge that it was me who joined the Maquis, and not Kathryn Janeway."

She couldn’t help it, she laughed. He smiled warmly at her. "To the Admiralty," she finally said, and they drained their glasses simultaneously.

Chakotay then turned his upside down on the bar, and turned to her. "Do you have time for a game?"

It was late, and she was tired. But this might be her last chance for a long time, perhaps.... She sauntered over to the table, picked up a cue. "There’s time. In fact, there’s time for two. We’ll play the rubber match when I’m back."

He heard the confidence in her voice and smiled. "When you’re back. Yes, that’s a deal."

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