Maneuvers
By Ralkana

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Captain Janeway looked around the table at her senior staff. Each face looked attentively back at her, and she smiled briefly. It was a good day, and it had been a good briefing, with relatively few problems reported, and even those were minor.

“If there’s nothing else—“

“Actually, Captain, there is something,” B'Elanna interrupted, looking slightly uncomfortable. Then she squared her shoulders and forged on. “Starfleet Engineering sent a query in the last datastream asking why we have not sent them the mission logs and flight status of one of our small craft.”

Janeway’s eyes widened and Chakotay’s chin came up slightly as he regarded the young engineer. Before either could speak, B'Elanna held up a hand.

“Yes, Captain, I did send the logs and status of every shuttle we’ve ever had, including both Flyers. The craft they’re asking about… it’s the aerowing.”

Chakotay raised an eyebrow. “The yacht?”

“You know, I’ve wondered about that,” Tom said suddenly. “Why haven’t we ever used the yacht?”

“Because, Mr. Paris, unlike our other craft, which can be repaired, rebuilt, or replaced—or, if those options are absolutely impossible, written off—if the aerowing sustains heavy damage or is destroyed, it leaves a large hole in the bottom of Voyager,” Janeway responded.

“The captain felt that the risk was too high and decided that the yacht would remain flight ready but unused unless absolutely necessary,” Tuvok added.

“Also, the yacht isn’t a workhorse. Though it’s maneuverable and it has defensive capabilities, it isn’t really designed for the kind of regular abuse that our shuttles take out here. Not that our other shuttles are,” B'Elanna said, glaring briefly at Tom and Chakotay, who both quickly looked away. “Captain, I suggest we send the yacht out on a test run so that we can at least send the logs to Starfleet to assure them that it is in working order.”

Janeway thought for a moment and then nodded. “Agreed. We’re in friendly space right now; it’s a good time. Who knows when that will be the case again? B'Elanna, have a team report to the yacht and ensure that it’s in flight ready condition. Harry, send a message to the Dalurate Council and inform them of the situation. Let me know if they have any problems with it; we don’t want to upset the few friends we’ve got out here.”

Tom sat up straighter. His eyes were absolutely gleaming at the possibility of getting his hands on a new toy. “Captain, I’d like—”

Janeway smiled. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Tom, and I promise you’ll get a chance to fly it. However, I have a different test pilot in mind,” she finished, glancing at Chakotay, who smiled. Tom’s jaw dropped.

“You want Chakotay to fly an untested spacecraft?”

He knew he’d crossed a line when Janeway turned back to him, death glare in full force. Chakotay’s smile vanished and his eyes narrowed. Gentle teasing was one thing, but outright questioning of the man’s piloting ability was quite another—a big mistake, to be exact.

“Do you have a problem with that, Lieutenant?” Janeway asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“No, ma’am, no problem,” Tom said hastily, determined to remain quiet for the rest of the meeting.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Several hours later, Chakotay sat in the yacht’s pilot’s seat completing the preflight checklist. He jumped when a voice sounded behind him.

“Pretty nice, isn’t it?”

Chakotay turned to see Kathryn lounging against the doorjamb that separated the front part of the yacht from the back. She smiled mischievously at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Playing hooky. Don’t tell Tuvok. At least, not yet.”

“Kathryn—”

She stood up straight, tilting her chin up and placing her hands firmly on her hips. “It’s my yacht. I can take a ride in it if I want to, Commander.”

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am! Seriously though, Kathryn, Tuvok’s going to have a fit.”

“We have a set flight plan that keeps us in the range of Voyager’s sensors. Everything will be fine.”

“Famous last words,” he muttered, and she glared at him. After a moment, she sauntered closer to him, her voice dropping to a husky purr.

“Besides, can you blame me for wanting to spend a little private time with my favorite pilot?”

“Mmm, guess not,” he growled, grabbing her hips and pulling her toward him for a quick but heated kiss. “Tom’s definitely going to pout at you for playing favorites, though,” he murmured against her lips.

She pulled back. “You are just as qualified a pilot as he is, Chakotay. Besides, he always gets to test out the new toys. I thought you deserved a little fun for once.” When he leered at her, she laughed. “Not that kind… okay, that kind too. And it gives you a chance to redeem your reputation, Commander Crash.”

Chakotay grinned, rolling his eyes at the hated nickname. “And you expect me to do that with you here?” She frowned at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You are distracting, woman! You scramble my brains when you’re around!” He took her hand and tugged her over until she was sitting in the copilot’s seat. “Sit there and promise me you’ll be a good girl. I really don’t need another accident on my record,” he said, kissing her hand as his console beeped to tell him that the preflight sequence was complete. He tapped a couple of keys, opening a channel to the ship. “Chakotay to Voyager. Beginning departure sequence.”

=/\=

On the bridge of Voyager, Tuvok looked up from his station. “Acknowledged. Releasing docking clamps. Successful journey, Commander. Voyager out.”

The magnetic clamps unlocked with a dull thunk, and the yacht slowly fell away from the ship and gracefully glided out to open space. As it cleared Voyager and began a series of measured, careful maneuvers, Harry glanced at his console and frowned.

“Commander, I’m reading two biosigns aboard the yacht. They were indistinguishable from each other before due to interference from Voyager herself, but they’re coming through loud and clear now.”

Tuvok came as close as a Vulcan ever could to sighing. “Computer, locate Captain Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway is not aboard Voyager.”

“Hail the yacht.”

“Aye sir.” After a moment, the younger man looked up and nodded. “Channel open.”

“Commander, it appears you have a stowaway.”

Chakotay laughed over the comm line. “Yes, Tuvok, she’s just shown herself.”

“Captain, I must protest.”

“Relax, Tuvok. We’re just doing basic tests. We’ll be back in a bit. Yacht out.”

Tom unwittingly echoed the captain as he half turned in his seat. “It is the captain’s yacht. I guess she can go along if she wants to.”

“Indeed, Lieutenant.”

=/\=

Aboard the yacht, Kathryn watched as Chakotay thoroughly ran through the test checklist, missing nothing but also adding nothing. He tested the thrusters, the impulse engines, and finally, the warp drive, executing a long, gradual acceleration to warp six and an equally gradual deceleration. He performed an extensive series of maneuverability exercises at impulse, and he was preparing to do the same at low warp. Kathryn was bored and beginning to wonder why she’d decided to come along. She shifted slightly and placed a hand on his knee. He glanced warningly at her and then focused again on the controls. As she slowly inched her hand up his leg, he looked at her again, and this time it was a smoldering glare.

“Kathryn…” he growled.

She smiled, saying nothing as she delicately cupped the growing bulge in his uniform trousers, and he hissed as she rubbed the palm of her hand lightly against it.

“Are you trying to drive my reputation as a pilot even farther into the ground?”

“Hmm?”

“Kathryn, I really don’t need another notch on that particular belt. If I crash the captain’s yacht, I will never be able to look Paris in the eye again.” His statement ended on a groan as her fingers stole up under his jacket to dip into the waistband of his trousers.

“But you’re not wearing a belt,” she said with a laugh, adding speculatively, “The captain’s yacht comes fully equipped with all of the amenities, you know…”

“Really,” he panted, doing his damnedest to concentrate on what the ship was doing.

“Mmm, yes. It’s designed for the captain’s comfort. An uncomfortable captain is an unhappy captain.”

“Can’t… have… that…”

“No, we definitely can’t.” Her fingers touched his skin and he gasped as fire shot through him with the contact. Quick as lightning, he took his hands from the controls, grabbed her hands, put them both in her lap, and returned his own to the controls.

“Spirits, Kathryn, you are trying to kill us, aren’t you? Just let me finish the checklist, beloved. This is the last thing on it, and then I promise you can show me everything,” he said with a wicked grin. She smiled back and watched impatiently as he finished his maneuvers and dropped them back to impulse. He headed for the moon of the fourth planet of the Dalurate system and deftly put them into orbit.

“After all, we should probably test its orbiting and autopilot capabilities,” he said sincerely, and she laughed. “Now, you were going to show me… the amenities?” She grinned as she stood and offered him a hand. He shot to his feet and swept her into his arms, laughing at her startled shriek as he strode toward the aft of the yacht.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

An hour or so later, Chakotay moved into the front of the yacht again, heading for the controls. He ran his fingers through his hair, straightening it as best he could. That sonic shower definitely isn’t built for two people, he thought. Especially two people doing what we were doing…

Just as he sat down, the comm system beeped. He glanced toward the back of the yacht, wondering if Kathryn was decent yet, and then thumbed the panel.

“Chakotay here.”

“Are you in need of assistance, Commander?”

Chakotay suppressed a smile. Apparently that’s Vulcan for ‘what the hell are you two doing over there?’

“We’re fine, Tuvok. Just heading back. We were testing the orbiting and autopilot on this thing.”

The sensitive communication system barely picked up Tom’s snort and muttered, "Yeah, bet you spent the whole time playing cards, too.”

Chakotay glared at the console. “Did you have something to add, Paris?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Be there in a few. Yacht out,” he finished as Kathryn came back into the cockpit, hair and uniform perfectly in place.

“How do you do that?” he asked, making sure the comm system was indeed off.

“Do what?”

“Look so perfect all the time.” He glanced at himself. His uniform was slightly wrinkled and he knew his hair was mussed. “I look like…”

“You look like you’ve had a hurried rendezvous in a too-small bed and a rushed shower in a too-small shower,” she said with a laugh, and he groaned.

“Exactly.”

“You look fine,” she said, smoothing his hair into place. She artfully tugged at his uniform and the creases fell into line. “See? Nothing to it. Just takes practice.”

Chakotay raised an eyebrow. “And have you had a lot of practice at hiding quickies?”

She glared at him. “No, Mister, I haven’t. You are the only one who’s ever persuaded me to shirk my duty in this terrible fashion.”

His jaw dropped. “Me? You were the one climbing all over me!”

Kathryn laughed, and then her smile faded. “No practice at hiding quickies… too much practice at shoving Kathryn away and becoming The Captain.”

He hugged her and brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “No more of that. There’s room enough in this beautiful body for both of them,” he said softly, and she smiled into his chest. “Come on, let’s go back before Tuvok really gets anxious.”

They settled into their seats for the short jaunt back to Voyager. Halfway there, Chakotay glanced at Kathryn and then down at the controls. He looked back up, glancing at where his sensors were telling him Voyager was.

“On second thought, hang on tight,” he said, and the yacht suddenly veered away from its flight plan.

“What are you up to?”

He glanced quickly away from the controls to grin at her. “You wanted to put her through her paces. That’s what we’re gonna do.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the comm link beeped again.

“It’s under control, Tuvok. We’re just doing a few more tests before we go in. Yacht out,” Chakotay said, not even giving Tuvok a chance to speak. He deftly flipped the small ship into a barrel roll, and Kathryn grabbed hold of the console by instinct, even though intellectually, she knew the inertial dampers wouldn’t allow anything to change inside the ship. He laughed without taking his eyes off the controls.

Chakotay did everything with the ship that he’d been longing to do earlier as he’d run through the stupid, boring checklist. Loops and rolls, feints and dodges, strafing runs around an imaginary enemy ship. He widened its course and did long but speedy approach vectors and then tightened it into short, evasive sequences.

Kathryn began to grow dizzy from watching the pitching and yawing of the stars out the front viewport—a testament to Chakotay’s piloting skills, as she didn’t get spacesick easily. She focused instead on him, watching him as he handled the yacht with ease. His face was set in concentration, dark eyes narrowed and boring into the console, jaw clenched, hands moving over the controls with lightning speed. It was a magnificent sight.

=/\=

On Voyager, the bridge crew watched silently as the little craft spun and flipped and twisted.

“Wow… that’s gotta be the captain,” Tom said quietly. “She’s covering for Chakotay.”

“On the contrary, Lieutenant. There has been no change in the flight logs we’re receiving to reflect a change in pilot. In addition,” Tuvok added before Tom could interrupt, “I have observed several intricate Maquis maneuvers. While it is possible the captain would know them, it is unlikely she would be able to perform them with such… dexterity.”

Tom grimaced. “I was kidding, Tuvok. Man, I’ll never make fun of his piloting again.”

“That is doubtless his intention.”

=/\=

“Here goes…”

“What—”

Before she could finish her question, Chakotay threw the ship into a series of fast, short warp jumps, bouncing it across space like a stone across water. Just inside the limit of Voyager’s sensor range, he stopped and spun it around, aiming it in the direction of Voyager and skipping it even faster on the return journey. Halfway back, he nodded to Kathryn without taking his eyes from the controls for even a second.

“Hail Voyager and ask them for permission to dock, please.”

“Voyager, this is the Destiny requesting permission to dock.”

She could see his surprise in her peripheral vision, and she laughed.

“Acknowledged, Destiny. Permission granted. Voyager out.”

“Destiny?”

“It needed a name. And it seems appropriate, don’t you think, considering who’s flying it? How else do you explain us?”

It was his turn to laugh. “My Kathryn, the hardnosed, skeptical scientist.”

His humor faded as he focused on his last maneuver. He brought the Destiny nearly screaming to a halt directly under its housing in Voyager’s hull. With a rapid burn of the thrusters, the little ship shot up toward the larger one. Just when alarms began to beep, a burn in the opposite direction slowed it down so that it slotted neatly into the hull. With another dull thunk, the mag clamps locked it into place.

“Voyager, this is the Destiny. Docking complete. Running through postflight sequence now.”

“Acknowledged, Commander… and, may I say, impressive flying.”

Kathryn laughed at the huge grin on Chakotay’s face. “Why thank you, Tuvok. Destiny out,” he said, shaking his head before breaking into laughter.

“That was high praise from a Vulcan.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“That was amazing flying, Chakotay.”

He glanced at her suggestively. “You were impressed, then.”

“Oh yes.”

“Then it worked.”

“Oh yes. Let’s get out of here and I’ll show you just how impressed.” He laughed but stopped when he saw the smoky look in her eyes. She stood as he finished the quick postflight sequence, and offered him a hand. “Come on, Flyboy.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

This time she was ready when he swung her up and ambled toward the airlock.