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The image he is greeted with when the hydraulic doors to Holodeck 1 slide apart is unsettling on more than one level.
He hadn’t expected her to make use of the Holodeck any time soon – not after the Hirogen had seized the ship and forced all of them to fight for their lives in their gruesome holographic hunting scenarios.
Voyager is still operating at only 74% capacity. The power drainage caused by the force field they have in place after the huge explosion ripped through the bulkheads of Holodeck 2 immense. The ship, personal quarters included, is a mess.
Now the holodeck is empty except for the boxing ring from his own training simulation. In the middle of it, a red-faced Janeway struggles against the death grip of a Hirogen hunter about twice her own size. The huge alien has her pinned to the floor, his large hands around her throat. Janeway angrily grits her teeth against the sensation, her hands gripping for purchase along the aliens’ arms as her tight body tries to struggle against its grip. It’s no use.
Chakotay knows she trains on a somewhat regular basis to keep in good physical shape. Knows she runs combat training simulations for exercise or just to blow off steam. He has even participated in a few of them with her. Never in hand-to-hand combat, but over the years they’ve had their share of early morning runs along a holographic version of San Francisco’s Embarcadero. He knows that underneath the red and black of her captain’s uniform she’s stronger than people give her credit for. Tight muscles moving beneath flawless skin. Kathryn Janeway in running shorts is an image to behold.
But a human female is no match for an alien the size of a Hirogen hunter. He hasn’t always agreed with her coping mechanisms. But facing off against a Hirogen on the holodeck is excessive – even for her.
Chakotay cautiously approaches the ring. The command is over his lips before he can give it second thoughts.
“Computer, freeze program.”
The Hirogen stops dead in its tracks, large gloved hands warped around Janeway’s neck like a vise, effectively pinning her to the floor and leaving her in an awkward position for a technical update from her first officer.
Kathryn pushes out an angry breath between her lips, struggling against the frozen alien. It is still no use. She can’t even turn her head to look at him.
“Commander,” she presses between gritted teeth, voice strained from the pressure along her neck, “this isn’t really a good time.”
He takes a few steps closer to assess the situation more carefully. She has shed her uniform jacket and exchanged her pants for Starfleet issued combat gear. Thigh black pants and combat boots that rise almost all the way to her knees. The gray tank top she’s wearing is drenched in sweat, leaving a v-shaped form between her breasts where her chest rises and falls rapidly with every frantic inhale and exhale. Strands of hair have become loose from where she’s pinned it back, now sticking to her forehead. Kathryn Janeway in combat gear, too, is an image to behold, he decides.
But the memory of having to fight for their lives on this very holodeck is still too raw, too fresh. Chakotay has no conscious recollection of his time in Sainte Claire before his neural interface had been disabled. All he remembers is the all-encompassing feeling of utter dread and panic, the feeling of disorientation and fear, when he finally came to his senses in the hallway right outside sickbay. The vague but fanatic impulse to keep looking for someone important, even if he couldn't quite pinpoint who he was looking for. A familiar face in the dead of the night. Elegant fingers lightly brushing against his chest. Strands of auburn hair shining in the dark. Her stern voice finally cutting through the darkness. Most clearly, however, he remembers the gratitude and the relief that flooded him when he finally remembered that it must have been her, that it could only have been her, who he was looking for in the destroyed hallways of their wrecked ship.
She might be no match for a Hirogen in hand-to-hand combat. But he has witnessed the force of her will cut through countless barriers.
He gives her a few more seconds, lets her struggle against the Hirogen’s relentless grip, face red and angry, as he casually leans against the ropes surrounding the ring.
“And here I was hoping you would take some time to unwind on the holodeck in one of your infamous romance novels,” he finally offers with a sly grin to diffuse some of the tension. It hasn’t been an easy couple of weeks for either of them.
“Chakotay-,” she warns.
He ducks between the ropes and enters the ring.
“Computer, deactivate the Hirogen hunter currently strangling the captain.”
The familiar beeps confirm the processing of his request before the alien pinning her down dematerializes. Kathryn, finally able to breath, begins to cough as both of her own hands fly to her throat where the Hirogens’s large hands have left marks despite the holodeck’s activated safety protocols.
Chakotay frowns at her while he waits for the fit to pass and when she doesn’t move, extends a hand to pull her to her feed in one fluid motion. He’s forgotten how light she is. How effectively the high rising turtleneck and the captain’s uniform conceal the fact, that underneath it all, she’s just as human and as vulnerable as the rest of them.
She is the most infuriating person he’s ever met. Lips tight and steel blue eyes. Her own ingenuity only ever slightly short of being self-righteous. Hell-bent at times on sacrificing her own well-being, even herself, for the crew or for the ship. Dead set at others to put everything at risk for a set of principals formulated on a planet tens of thousands of light-years away.
There are times when he wants to grab her small shoulders and shake her until the obsessiveness leaves her eyes. But then a smile erupts across her face in the unlikeliest of places. Brilliant and bright and all of her hardness is lost for a moment. And it is as simple as that. Even if it is a horrible cliché. She’s also the most compassionate person he’s ever met. Never shy of reaching out across the distance.
She’s an enigma to him. Even after all these years. The contradiction within her still is sometimes too vast for him to grasp.
The realization forces him to avert his eyes under the harsh light of the empty holodeck, or, he is certain of it, she’ll be able to read him like a book.
Kathryn, finally regaining some of her composure along with her breath, takes a step back from him.
“Thanks,” she mutters as she glares at him, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.
“How many rounds did you go?” he asks.
Kathryn shrugs. “I don’t know. Five. Six.”
“Did you win any of them?” Chakotay raises an eyebrow.
She raises her chin in turn, hands to her hips, “What can I do for you, Commander?”
This image is familiar enough to put him a little more at ease. “B’Elanna tells me the warp core is almost back on-line, but she has problems rerouting enough power to the containment field in Holodeck 2 to keep it stable. We’ll have to shut down the holodecks to get enough power to engineering.”
Kathryn gives him a curt nod, “do it.”
Chakotay changes his weight from one foot to the other.
“Have you considered finding a sparring partner a little bit more your weight class?”
Kathryn glares at him again from beneath her long lashes, “are you challenging me, Chakotay?” But there is a slightly mischievous grin to her voice.
The succeeding image that flashes across his mind of Kathryn Janeway pinned beneath him in a sweaty tank top, however expected, yet troublesome in its intensity, should be testimony enough to just how bad of an idea that would be.
He grins at her as he guides her out of the holodeck, his hand hoovering above the small of her back.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, captain.”
***