Chapter Text

The Pitcher Planet

“‘Will you walk into my parlor?’

said the Spider to the Fly.”

-Mary Howitt

Chapter I

“How long until we reach your ship?” the elderly alien asked again.

“Our shuttle should be there in a couple of hours,” Chakotay assured him.

The alien was Prime Magistrate Ufur Ducichef, a representative of the planet Eteoneus. He was a short, rounded-back humanoid with grayish purple skin, three eyes, and about a thousand orange age spots.  But he reminded Chakotay of his grandfather.

“Because it’s dangerous out here, you know,” Ufur added.  “So many evil aliens.  Especially the Vidians.  They will take your organs.”

Captain Janeway glanced at Chakotay with a quirk of her eyebrow.  She was thinking what he was - how much longer could they stand being in a shuttle with Ufur?

“Yes, sir, we have encountered the Vidians before,” Chakotay said.  “But I really don’t expect any danger.”

Despite having three eyes, Ufur squinted.

“They took my sister’s kidney,” he said.  “Nasty things.”

“Oh, dear,” Janeway said.

This wasn’t the first time he’d told the story.

“Mmm, yes,” Ufur said.  “I chased him off before he could do more.  Why I fought the Vidians when I was younger.  Killed quite a few.  They never knew what hit them.”

He waved his cane in illustration.  Chakotay ducked.

“That’s - interesting,” Chakotay said.

He and the captain had discussed their similar encounter with the Vidians with the king and his cabinet, which included Ufur.  Why the king had chosen this man to accompany them was beyond him.

“Now my body is old and weary.  No one wants old, wrinkled organs,” Ufur sighed.  Janeway was making a concerted effort not to laugh.  “My grandchildren never visit.  I won’t be here forever.  My knee is acting up, and my guts!  Oh, when I relieve myself it’s like a waterfall.”

Chakotay frowned.  Did he say waterfall?   Janeway turned to Ufur.

“Prime Magistrate,” she said gently.  “Perhaps you should visit the fresher and take a nap?  There are beds in the back of the shuttle.  Let me show you.”

“Hmm,” he said.  “Tell me when we get there, young man!”

“Yes, sir,” Chakotay said, giving Janeway a ‘thank you’ nod as she led him to the berthings.  She returned several minutes later with her best friend, coffee.

“I thought I was going to have to check on you,” Chakotay said.

She finally let herself laugh softly.

“He is a pest, but he reminds me of my grandfather,” she said.

“You too?” he asked.  “I had to take care of my grandfather when I was a kid. He wouldn’t take his meds.”

“Oh,” Kathryn said, her expression softening.  “That’s a great responsibility.  Was he ill?”

He was insane.  But Chakotay didn’t think she needed to know that.  He wasn’t sure why he’d told her as much as he had.  

“Uh, yeah,” he said.  “What did you think of our latest first contact?”

She took a thoughtful sip of her coffee.

“I think it went well,” she said.  “I know they’re a little difficult, but it’s hard to blame them considering the havoc the Vidians have wrought on them.”

“That’s true,” Chakotay acknowledged.  “They seemed almost xenophobic at first, but you charmed them into visiting our ship.”

She shook her head and waved a finger.

“Oh, no,” she said, leaning toward him, patting his knee.  Oh, why was she doing that?   “You’re the real diplomat.  I wouldn’t have expected that from a terrorist.”

She was smiling, teasing, her lovely face lighting up.  Though they’d started as enemies, he had come to respect Janeway over the past two years, and they had so much in common they’d also become friends, confidants.  With anyone else, though, he’d think her gestures were flirting, an invitation for romance.  But Janeway was different.  She was a Starfleet captain even way out in the Delta Quadrant, and kept herself apart from the crew, though she often touched her crew for reassurance.  Not on their knees, though.  He was reading too much into this.  Concentrate on flying the shuttle, he told himself.

“I am a man of many talents,” he said, smiling back at her. 

“Chakotay,” Janeway said, looking at the flight panel, suddenly serious. 

He looked as well.  They were off course somehow.  

“I swear I put in a flight plan,” Chakotay said.  They didn’t even have to be up here.  The shuttle would have piloted them home on its own.

“I don’t think it's just the readings that are off,” Kathryn said. 

She was right.  The shuttle’s directional controls were spinning out of control.  He tried to compensate to no avail.  They had no idea what direction they were heading in now.  How had things changed so quickly?

And then it hit them with full force.  A magnetic storm engulfed the ship, and they rocked hard to the right.  He fastened his belt.

“The magistrate,” Janeway said.

“Stay,” he said, clamping a hand over her arm.  “Put your belt on.”

“Magistrate, take cover!” Janeway shouted.

“Bake Glover?” Ufur shouted back.

Another hit.  With the flashes of lightning and the swirling clouds, he could barely see, much less keep control.  He had to let Janeway go.  She’d barely left her seat when the shuttle suffered a direct hit, shaking the life out of them and frying every piece of equipment that was still working.  Medical kits and other equipment flew out across the shuttle.  He’d programmed the shuttle to avoid the storm, not take them directly into it.  

Janeway managed to cling to his chair.  

“Sit down!” he ordered.  She actually listened.

“New course,” she said.  “Hard to port.”

He’d already started programming exactly that.  They had to get out of this storm.  He hoped he was turning to port.  After several tense minutes of constant battering, they cleared the storm and he sighed with relief.

The Prime Magistrate hobbled out of the berthings, a bloody mark on his wrinkled forehead.

“What in blazes?  Where did you learn to pilot?” he cried.

Chakotay grimaced.  This wasn’t his fault.  

“There’s a planet, Class M, not far from us,” Kathryn said.

Hopefully the star map was still working.  He headed that way, the ship rattling around them.  About all he could do now was glide on impulse. Ufur poked his head between them nosily.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Good question.

“We have to find a place to land,” Chakotay said.  “The shuttle has been damaged.”

“Oh, no,” Ufur said, shaking his head.  “You can’t!  It’s dangerous out here!”

“It’s dangerous in here,” he snapped.

Janeway tried to reason with the magistrate, urging him to buckle down.  He didn’t listen any better than she had.

“There it is,” Janeway said.

A planet came into view.  Blue and green with clouds of white.  So much like Earth.  He steered the shuttle in that direction, deep in concentration.

“Nooo!” Uther cried, panicked.  He leapt across Chakotay, smashing random buttons as he did so.

“Stop!” Janeway ordered fiercely, gripping his spindly arm.  “We must land, magistrate.”

Ufur broke free and shoved in front of Chakotay again, practically sitting in his lap.  The man had never even been in a space shuttle.  He definitely didn’t know how to fly one.  

“Not this one!” he cried.  “It’s Nepenthe!  I know it!”

The shuttle jolted as it met the atmosphere.  Ufur was thrown to the back of the shuttle as Chakotay tried to regain control of their speed.  There was little he could do now, though, but try to guide them as they barreled closer to the planet, whipping through the trees with thunderous thumps and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.  The trees slowed the craft some, but not enough as they slammed into a meadow and continued skidding, digging a long trench into the earth, before finally coming to an abrupt stop.

Chakotay turned to Janeway.  She was rattled, but had no obvious injuries besides some cuts and bruises.  Immediately, she leapt from her seat and headed to the back.  Chakotay looked over the panel with despair.  At least the shuttle wasn’t leaking a dangerous gas or threatening to explode immediately.  Not that he could fully trust any readings.

“We need to get out of here,” Chakotay said, rushing back to Janeway.

And then he saw Ufur.  His fragile body was crushed against the far wall of the shuttle, blue blood gushing from his wounds.  Janeway was already calling for Voyager as she wrapped one of his wounds tightly.

“Voyager,” she repeated.  “Janeway to Voyager, we have an emergency!”

“ Voyager here ,” Harry Kim replied.

“I need immediate transport to Sickbay!” she ordered.  “And call in Commander Tuvok.”

“ Yes, ma’am ,” he replied nervously.

Chakotay put pressure over Ufur’s gut wound while Janeway tried vainly to stop Ufur’s bleeding.  When she ran out of bandages, she tore at her own jacket.

“Harry!” Chakotay cried.  “What’s going on?”

“ The transporters can’t get a lock on you ,”  Harry said.  “ What are your coordinates? ”

Oh, like they knew.

“Search neighboring planets,” Janeway ordered while securing another tourniquet.  “Class M.  Close to Terra in appearance.”

“ Yes, ma’m ,” he said.  “ Sensors are still having trouble locating you.  There must be some kind of interference.  We’re working on it .”

Ufur’s chest stopped rising.  Chakotay felt his neck.  No pulse.

“Damn it,” Janeway cried, beginning compressions immediately, likely breaking his rib cage in the process.

Chakotay dug through the medkit and pressed a hypospray of adrenaline into Ufur’s neck.  No response.  Precious minutes flew by.

“Harry!” Janeway shouted.

“ Tuvok here.  We have located the planet in your description ,” the Vulcan answered, calm as ever.  “ Sensor readings are erratic.  We have attempted to lock onto your party with no success. ”

Janeway cursed as she continued compressions.

“ We could send a shuttle to retrieve you ,” Tuvok suggested.

“No,” Janeway said.  “Not yet.  I don’t want anyone else down here until we know more.  Keep me informed.”

“ Yes, Captain ,” Tuvok said.

“Captain,” Chakotay said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “We can’t save him.”

“Take over compressions,” she ordered.  Her hands and uniform were covered in blue blood.  She pushed some hair out of her eyes, leaving blue splotches on her face.

He took over, knowing it was useless.  Janeway examined the damage, her sharp blue eyes taking all of it in.  It wasn’t good.
“I can’t be sure how stable the shuttle is,” Chakotay said.

“We shouldn’t take the chance,” she said, glancing at Ufur.  “Carry him.”

Chakotay stopped compressions and Janeway offered him a blanket.  He rolled Ufur up and lifted him into his arms as Janeway grabbed supplies.  Medkit, survival tools, rations.  They walked many meters from the shuttle.  If it was going to self-destruct, it would do so soon.

The day was so beautiful, the perfect temperature, soft white clouds, blue skies.  It didn’t seem right to have a dead body.  

“He was terrified,” Janeway said.

To most people, she still looked calm and reserved.  But he could see in her blue eyes a sadness he’d witnessed before.  Another dead person on her watch.  She took it personally.  

“He’d never been off his planet,” Chakotay said.  “I’m sure it was frightening for him.”

“But there was something about this planet,” she said.  “What did he call it?  Nepenthe?”

“Nepenthe was a mystical drink in Greek mythology,” he said.

“And also the phylum for a carnivorous plant,” she added.  “On Earth, anyway.  Neither definition sounds promising.”

“Maybe it’s just mythology,” Chakotay said.  “Myths are universal in many cultures.  The translator has likely converted his language to the closest words we have in Standard.  I don’t know if we should read much into it.  He was just a frightened old man.”

“But brave enough to come with us,” Janeway pointed out.  “And now he’s dead.”

That certainly wasn’t going to help their negotiations.  

“We’ll leave him here,” she said, nodding to his wrapped body.  “They’re still working to transport us.  He could still be revived.  Or, at least, sent back to his home planet.”

Except Voyager couldn’t even find their signatures for sure.  But they had good people working on it.  If anyone could figure it out, it was their crew.  He just didn’t know how long it would take.  Janeway’s face shifted from sorrow and frustration to duty.

“We need materials for a fire.”

“Well, we did knock down several trees,” Chakotay offered.

She stood, determined.

“Go and search for wood.  I’ll set up our camp and look for water.  We’ll meet back here.“

As night began to fall, they had a suitable campsite, away from the shuttle, and away from the body.  The air had cooled somewhat, but wasn’t too cold.  Chakotay gathered plenty of firewood and found some root vegetables and mushrooms as well as some fruit.  He scanned it with his tricorder.  All of it appeared edible.  Janeway found a water source just outside their camp, a small lake shaded by trees.  Further down there was a river.  Chakotay detected fish in the water.  If they had to, they could fish for protein.  Their tent was set up and ready.  He had a fire pit prepared.  He’d even found some flint.

With their remaining light, they got to work on the shuttle.  Tuvok reported back to them several times.  No good news, unfortunately.

“Have you spoken to Eteoneus?” Janeway asked as she lay under the shuttle, placing a metal tool a little too close to some wiring for his comfort.

“ I have alerted them that there has been an accident ,” Tuvok replied.  “ I also mentioned the planet “Nepenthe”.  According to His Majesty, it is an old tale about a land, and later a planet, that lures in ships and traps the people .”

“Welcome to my parlor,” Chakotay began.

“ Excuse me, Commander? ” Tuvok asked.

“Nevermind,” he said.

But Janeway had gotten his reference to the ancient poem, he could tell.

“What else, Tuvok?” she asked.

“ His Majesty believes it to be a myth or superstition ,” he said.  “ As they are in the beginning stages of space travel, their knowledge of surrounding planets is based only on telescopic readings .”

“Myth or not we need a way out of here,” Janeway said.  “I suppose sensors and transporters are still not functioning?”

“ They are functioning adequately elsewhere, but not in relation to that planet,” Tuvok said .  “There is the possibility of a shuttle .”

“Not yet,” she said.  “Chakotay and I should have this shuttle together by tomorrow morning.”

Tomorrow morning?  Maybe B’Elanna could do that, but Chakotay doubted they could.  It’d been a while since he’d worked on a shuttle without the aid of an engineer.  He’d relied on B’Elanna too long.

“Does Neelix have any information?” Chakotay asked.

The Talaxian was supposed to be their guide to the Delta Quadrant.

“ I will inquire if he does ,” Tuvok said.

“Keep us informed,” Janeway said.  “If the shuttle fails, we may need to look at other options.  Janeway out.”

“Captain,” Chakotay said as he drilled in another replacement part.  They’d gone through all of the emergency pieces.  “It’s dark.  We’ve been at this for nearly two hours.  We should eat some food.  Get some rest.”

“You rest,” Janeway said.  “I’ll keep working a little longer.”

Chakotay left the shuttle and cooked a soup filled with mushrooms, some roots, a bit of seasoning and a couple of ration packs for protein over the fire.  And he set aside pieces of fruit, something resembling apples, for dessert.

“Captain,” he said, returning to the shuttle.

A brief flash in the dark.  Janeway yelped in pain.  Chakotay immediately dove under with her.  She clutched her hand.  He helped pull her out and examined her hand.  Luckily, it was a minor burn.

“It’s fine,” she insisted.

“You just shocked yourself because you’re tired,” Chakotay said.  

He dug out the dermal regenerator and ran it over her hand.  

“Any other wounds?” he asked.

“Nothing pressing,” she said.  “Let’s eat.”

They each took a bowl of soup and ate.  It wasn’t the best meal ever, but he’d had worse.

“Maybe we should employ you as a cook,” she suggested.

“And make Neelix first officer?” he asked, smiling.

She smiled in return.  She’d stripped down to her undershirt while working on the shuttle.  Moonlight highlighted her face, her auburn hair, her bare shoulders. He’d never seen her bare shoulders.  She’s your captain, he reminded himself.

“Hmm,” she pretended to consider it.  “He is good with crew morale.”

Chakotay laughed.  Neelix could be both good and bad for morale, especially if you considered his cooking. 

“It is beautiful here,” he reflected.  “Look at that sky full of stars, smell the campfire, feel the breeze.  It reminds me of when I went camping in the Arizona wilderness.”

It also, painfully, reminded him of his first home.

“We’re trapped on an unknown planet with a dead alien diplomat,” she said.  “But you’re enjoying the camping?”

“We might as well,” he said.  “Happy or not, we’re here.  We’ll get back to work in the morning.  By tomorrow night, we’ll probably be back on Voyager.”

She stared off into the night.  He touched her hand.  She turned to him.

“And what happened is not your fault,” he added.

She shivered a bit, not meeting his eyes. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Let’s go inside the tent,” he said.  “Get a little sleep.”
Reluctantly, she nodded, and joined him in the tent after he put out the fire.  His body was exhausted, and he fully felt the bruises from the crash and the extra exertion as he laid on the hard ground.  She curled up beside him.  He was tempted to put an arm around her.  Stupid.  He closed his eyes.

A sudden noise woke him up.  Janeway sat up too.  They heard rustling outside and an ominous shadow passed over their tent.

“What was that?” she whispered.

He placed one hand on her shoulder, and the other on his phaser.

“We’re about to find out,” he said.

Chapter Text

Chapter II

Chakotay pushed Kathryn behind him and whipped back the tent flap, phaser ready.  Nothing.

“Stay here,” he whispered, and slowly, body hunched over, he made his way out of the tent.

Kathryn rolled her eyes.  He’d forgotten the light.  She switched it on and followed a couple of minutes later.

Another rustling.  Chakotay turned, pointing his phaser toward a bush.  The light from the phaser didn’t offer much illumination.  A chittering noise.  Likely an animal.  She hoped he didn’t kill it.

Kathryn crept up behind him, offering him more light.

“You don’t listen,” he hissed.

“I’m the captain,” she hissed back.

“And as first officer, I’m supposed to protect you.”

She opened her mouth to respond, when something sprang from the bushes.  Chakotay shoved her to the ground, covering her body with his own.  In the darkness, she ran her light over the brush.  There, in a spotlight made by the hand light, was what looked like a Terran monkey, more specifically a spider monkey.

“Thank you for your protection, Commander,” she said, nearly bursting into giggles.

“It’s an alien monkey,” he protested.  He was trying to cover his pride.  “It could be rabid, or worse.”

She pushed at him, and he uncovered her.  The monkey waited curiously.  She reached out and called to him.

“Hey,” she said.  “Come here, little one.”

The monkey didn’t move.  

“Get me some rations,” she ordered Chakotay.

He grumbled under his breath but obeyed.  She held out a dry cracker.

“Food?” she asked.

The monkey cautiously loped toward them, gripped the cracker in his tiny hands, and ran back into the brush.

“Looks like we’re not alone down here,” she said.

“Great.  We’ve still got a while until sunrise.”

He walked back to the tent.  She followed.  Despite their situation, the discovery of the monkey, or whatever this creature might be, excited her.  But she was surprised by Chakotay’s reaction.

“I thought animals were sacred to your people,” she said. “They are your spiritual guides, aren’t they?”

Chakotay had mentioned that his people were descended from Earth’s ancient Mayans.  He’d taught her the spirit animal tradition, but she didn’t know much else.

“That depends,” Chakotay said, leaning back.  “In the Popol Vuh , a creation myth, there are two monkeys who are talented artisans.  They are said to protect artists.”

“That sounds nice,” she said.

“There is also Ek Chuah , monkey god of cocoa.”

“I like cocoa.”

“Spider monkeys, like that one, are shown as disruptive.  There is art of them engaging in lewd behavior.”

“Do tell,” she said, propping her head with her hand.

“We had real monkeys near our village.  They often came into our village, destroying crops, raiding homes, and yes, attacking people.”

She placed a hand on his arm. 

“Did a monkey hurt you, Chakotay?” she asked.

He turned to her, annoyed.

“No,” he said.  “But they did mess up crops, which led to more work.  My sister kept one as a pet for a short time while he healed from a leg injury.  He stole my food right off my plate, destroyed my things, left droppings on my bed . . .”

Kathryn couldn’t help herself.  She burst out laughing.  

“I - am sorry for your monkey trauma,” she sputtered.

Finally, he smiled.  Oh, how she liked his smile.  He was very handsome, with his bronze skin, sharp cheekbones, and deep brown eyes.  She’d always thought so, even when he was defying her.  Maybe especially then.

“You’re not keeping that one as a pet,” he said.

“If you insist,” she said, patting his bicep.  

His muscle flexed beneath her hand.  Why did she keep touching him?  She felt his gaze, and pulled back her hand awkwardly.  

“Maybe we should get a little more sleep,” she said, turning away from him.

Soon his breathing became slow and regular.  He was asleep.  But she lay awake much longer, her mind immediately going back to Ufur dying as she watched helplessly.  Her chest hurt from laughing.  For a moment, she’d forgotten how dire their situation was.

But lying beside Chakotay, his breath lightly tickling her neck, she felt such comfort.  Comfort she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Kathryn drilled in the last part of the new shuttle display panel with satisfaction.  That morning she’d woken up to fresh coffee over the fire.  She never went anywhere without it.  Chakotay also had freshly picked strawberries ready.  This planet was gorgeous and plentiful, practically paradise.  There were worse places to be stranded.

But they needed to get back to Voyager.  Thus far, Tuvok had avoided breaking the news of the Prime Magistrate’s death to the king of Eteoneus.  She was responsible, and needed to deliver the news herself.  B’Elanna beamed down extra parts and tools to them, and now, at just past noon, they were finished.  The shuttle still had damage, but it would fly.

They packed their gear and Ufur’s body in the shuttle, and Chakotay sat down in the passenger seat this time.

“Ready?” he asked.

She took a deep breath, and powered on the shuttle.  The shuttle rattled noisily, but it rose into the air.  Just as it reached the atmospheric limits, the shuttle bounced off of something invisible.

“What was that?” Chakotay asked.

That’s what she wanted to know.  She tried again to push past the atmosphere, and again the shuttle bounced backward.  This time she spotted sparks, and for a second, a golden dome appeared.  A forcefield.

“Where the hell did that come from?” she pondered.

“Maybe there are weaknesses in it,” Chakotay suggested.

They scanned the area for any faults in the field, but came up with nothing.  She tried gently pushing the shuttlecraft into different parts of the field.  The fourth time, the field electrified the shuttle, shocking them both, and sending the shuttle spiraling.  She regained control just in time to keep from violently crashing again, but the landing was too hard, and the shuttle whined in protest.  

Her mind reeled.  Who made this forcefield?  Why?  And how were they going to get past it?  Then she looked at the fried circuit board she’d just replaced.  Who knew what else was damaged?  Damn it.  She turned to Chakotay.

“Well, that’s not good,” he said.

The man had a knack for understatement.  She ran a hand through her hair.  Half of it had fallen out of the bun in matted tangles. Her hands were still crusted with blood.  The copper smell permeated her nose.

She had to regroup.  She pressed her communicator.

“Janeway to Tuvok,” she said.

“ Tuvok here .”

“There’s some kind of forefield surrounding the planet, blocking our departure,” she said.  

“ That is unusual ,” Tuvok said.  “ Considering that we were able to beam materials down to the planet .”

But they couldn’t get out.

“Tuvok,” Chakotay said.  “Can you get a lock on the tools you sent down this morning?”

“ Yes, Commander. ”

“Beam them back to the ship.”

They watched as the tools dematerialized.  Several minutes passed.

“Did you receive the tools?” Kathryn asked.

“ Yes, Captain ,” Tuvok replied.  “ However - they arrived - in a different state of matter .”

“What?” she asked.

“ Lt. Torres just described the tools as a pool of molten metal ,” he said.  “ Beaming you and the commander off of the planet would seem inadvisable .”

The idea of becoming a puddle didn’t appeal to her either.

“And if you send a shuttle here, you’ll likely be trapped with us,” Kathryn said, frustrated.  “We’re running out of options.”

“ We can send out a distress call ,” Tuvok began.

“No,” she said.  “I don’t want you attracting any possible enemies.”

“ We will work on dismantling the field .”

“Can you detect the field?”

“ No we cannot ,” Tuvok admitted.  “ However, we are recalibrating sensors.  With some time, we may be able to . . . ”

“I don’t want you wasting too much time and fuel,” Kathryn said.  “Three weeks, maximum.”

“Has Neelix offered any new information?” Chakotay asked.

“ He has mentioned planets with other civilizations near this area,” Tuvok said.  “His memory does not provide definitive data on the nature or location of these planets or their inhabitants.  May I remind you that Mr. Neelix has led us astray in the past.”

“I beg your pardon! ” Neelix whined in the background.

“He’s the best we’ve got,” Kathyn said.  “Keep searching the database for any knowledge of Nepenthe or a similar planet.  If you cannot come up with a solution in three weeks, we need to consider the possibility of leaving the commander and me behind.”

She’d never reach home.  Never see her mother or sister again.  Or . . .  Mark.  She hadn’t even thought of him yet.  But she had to set her own feelings aside.  She’d known the risks when she signed on as captain.  The crew needed to get home, no matter what.

“In that case,” she continued.  “I will make you acting captain of Voyager and trust you to get the crew home.”

“ If we come to that point, I will accept the position ,” Tuvok said.

They wouldn’t come to that point, not if she could help it.

“It’s a plan, then,” Chakotay said.  “See if you can send us survival supplies.  We could use a shelter, medicine, a replicator, whatever you can spare.  And get us some information on Eteoneus burial practices.”

Chakotay was just being practical.  But it sounded too much like they were moving in, maybe for the long haul.

“ Yes, sir ,” Tuvok replied.

Kathryn focused on one step at a time.  First, she and Chakotay organized the supplies they were given, including a large prefabricated shelter and more tools to repair the shuttle.  Again.  Now it was time to deal with the body. 

According to the information discovered, Eteonans had once preferred a ‘natural’ burial.  In other words, they just left the body out to decompose.  Since their encounters with the Vidians, they had switched to routine burials in a secluded area.  They searched the area and found a spot a decent distance away from their camp, surrounded by trees, and loaded the body onto a roughly made sled and dragged it to the location.  Now it was time to dig.  The entire process was awful, grueling work, but Ufur deserved a proper burial.  They took turns digging until the hole was deep enough to keep predators away.   Chakotay placed the wrapped body inside.

“Do you want to say anything?” he asked.

Kathryn stared down into the dark hole.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Chakotay strung some eloquent, funeral-type words together.  Kathryn  remembered her father’s funeral more than any other, standing in the rain, her entire world destroyed.  They dumped more dirt upon Ufur, but her body was beginning to ache from the exertion.  She leaned against her shovel.

“I can finish burying the body later,” Chakotay said.  “We need to eat and rest.  But first - I have an idea.”

Twenty minutes later, she stood beside the lake with Chakotay.  Two fresh uniforms waited on a large rock.  A bath.  He’d suggested a bath.  She desperately wanted and needed one, but she hesitated.  Chakotay pulled his shirt off over his head.  She turned, but out of the corner of her eye, she could still see his fit, muscular abdomen.  When he started on his pants, she turned away from him completely.  After a splash, he called out to her.

“Come on in,” he said.  “The water’s fine.”

She stood behind a tree and removed her sticky, crusted clothing, and risked a look at the lake.  Chakotay had wandered further out and turned his back to her.  Feeling a bit ridiculous, she hurriedly tiptoed into the water.  She ducked under and rose again, breaking the surface.  The strain seemed to wash off of her along with the grime.

“Better isn’t it?” he asked.

He turned and she sank a little lower, the water close to her neck.  Chakotay was close enough to talk to, but just far enough away that she didn’t panic.

“Much,” she agreed.

“I haven’t taken such a natural bath in years,” he said.  “What about you?  Have you ever been skinny-dipping before?”

She remembered summer days back home, swimming near the beach.  But she’d always worn a swimsuit.

“Can’t say that I have,” she said.

“You were missing out,” he said.

Water ran in rivulets down his chest.  She forced her eyes to meet his.

“When did you go skinny-dipping?” she asked.

“All the time when I was a boy back home,” he said.  “There was this incredible mountain lake.  I swam with all the other young people in the village.”

She knew his colony had been attacked, and his father killed, but the other details he’d given her of his home were vague.  Her curiosity trumped her awkwardness, and she swam a little closer.

“All of you together?” she asked.  

“We didn’t think that much about it,” Chakotay said.  “Naked is our most natural state.”

“A state you seem to like,” she said.

He flashed a grin.

“I suppose you always followed the rules as a child,” he said.

“No, I did not,” she said.  “I once got in trouble for swimming in an old quarry on Mars.  It was off-limits for children.  As it turned out, there was a reason for that.”

“Go on,” he said, clearly interested.

“I was about fourteen. I went with a couple of girlfriends, but they got scared and left,” she said, then stopped.

Mark had been there waiting.  Mark.

“But you stayed,” Chakotay said.

“Uh, yes,” she said.  “There was a boy there, and we swam together.”

“A boy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shook her head and splashed water at him.  Mark had suffered an incredibly difficult adolescence.  He was long and lanky, with acne that defied the best dermal regenerator.  And he was always there, annoying her.  She never would have thought then that she’d ever be romantically linked with him.

“A friend,” she said.  “Anyway, it was exciting, until we nearly got trapped underwater.  But we made it out, and my father - oh, he was furious.”

“I’m sure he was worried,” Chakotay said.

“Yes,” she said.  “He grounded me, which I thought was extremely unfair.  But worse than that was the disapproval on his face.”

She’d never forget the shame she’d felt.  All she’d ever wanted was to impress him, but she continued to fail, over and over.

“Ah, I know that look,” Chakotay said with a nod.  “My father used that look on me throughout my childhood and adolescence.”

“Did he have a reason?”

“Most of the time,” he said.  “Did you ever go back?  To the quarry?”

“I did,” she smiled proudly.  “And that time I found a rare fossil.”

“Impressive,” he said.

She hadn’t realized how close they were to each other now.  Again, she’d forgotten their troubles.  Chakotay had a way of helping her do that.

“We should get back,” she said.  “It will be dark soon.”

“I’ll fix more soup,” he said.  “Tomorrow we can get the shelter assembled, and we’ll have a replicator.”

They swam back to shore and changed.  Soon they were back at camp, sitting near the fire again.  Her thoughts were troubled.  She’d remembered Mark.  But her feelings for him had grown strangely distant.  Guilt pressed at her.  

“Feel like hearing one of my ancient legends?” he asked, nudging her shoulder lightly.

He knew her too well.

“Tell me one about the monkeys,” she said.

He laughed.

“For you,” he said.  “Long ago, before the first human people, there were two brothers, Hunbatz and Hunchouen.  They were accomplished artists, but jealous of their younger brothers, the Hero Twins . . .”
She listened to the tale of how the brothers were turned into monkeys as punishment, and how they ran away when ridiculed for their silliness, living high amongst the trees.  And she wondered if the monkeys had it easier with their simple, silly minds.

It amazed her how quickly she adapted to her new surroundings, in no small part due to her ever-resourceful first officer.  In the past few weeks, they’d constructed a suitable shelter, much more comfortable than the ground or the shuttle, complete with a replicator.  She could go without food for a while, but not without coffee.

Speaking of food, there was a small bowl of fruit hanging from the ceiling over the kitchen table, and their cabinets were filled with various herbs and a couple of root vegetables.  They had a replicator, but Chakotay pointed out that they might not have it forever, and preferred saving it unless necessary.

Chakotay constructed fishing rods for them.  Though he was normally a vegetarian, he recognized the need for protein.  She hadn’t been fishing since she was last dragged on a camping trip with her family.  Strangely enough, she now enjoyed sitting on the bank, waiting for the fish to nibble.  And the reward of fresh fish cooked over a fire was worth it.

They’d switched from uniforms to everyday clothes, though they still kept their communicators.  Wearing simple dresses and putting her hair in a braid rather than the constricted bun felt freeing, like she was an actual human woman again.  Chakotay complimented her on her new look.  She was rather impressed with his new ensemble as well - a billowing white top, a leather jerkin, and pants.  He reminded her of the romantic hero in her old holonovels.  

Not that she planned to tell him about those holonovels.  Since coffee was her one speciality, Chakotay cooked for her.  He also made the place more comfortable with little touches like creating headboards for the bed.

“I noticed you liked to sit up in bed to read,” he’d said.  “I figured you might as well have a comfortable backrest.”

It was very thoughtful of him, but she preferred working on the shuttle and using her research equipment and her own observations to find out more about the planet Nepenthe.  Now the shuttle was back in working condition, but she hadn’t gathered any data yet relating to that forcefield.

She checked in with Voyager a few times a day the first few days, then it stretched to once a day.  That night, it was Tuvok who contacted her.

“Go ahead, Tuvok,” she said, though she knew she’d get the same response.

“ It has been twenty-one days, Captain, ” Tuvok reported.  

Three weeks already?

“ Our studies have unfortunately not uncovered any new information about how to retrieve you and the commander, ” Tuvok continued. “However . . .”

“No however,” she clipped.  Chakotay sat on the porch beside her.  She felt his eyes on her.  “If there has been no progress, it is time to move on.  You may check other friendly sources for information, but I don’t want you taking any great risks, especially with the Vidians.  For all intents and purposes . . .”

She hesitated.  Chakotay put a hand on her shoulder.

“You are now captain of Voyager, Tuvok,” she said. 

There was a pause.

“ As you wish, Captain .”

“Gather the crew.  We’ll say our goodbyes,” she said.  “And Tuvok - take them home for me.”

“ I will make every attempt, Captain ,” Tuvok replied.

An hour later, she prepared to speak one more time to the crew.  Chakotay had already said his goodbyes, and now stood just behind her at her shoulder, as he so often did on the bridge.  She steadied herself.  She’d been unable to prepare a speech.  

“This is Kathryn Janeway. I've never liked saying goodbye, so I'll make this brief, but I want you all to know that serving as your captain has been the most extraordinary experience of my life,” she began, willing her voice not to waver.  “No captain could ask more than what this crew has given.  Bravery, compassion and strength of character.”

It sounded like a rote speech, and they deserved more than that.

“But I think what I'll miss most is getting to know you as people, not a crew,” she continued.  “I recall the time we spent together in Tom’s clever holodeck program, ‘Sandrine’s’.  The birthday parties, the holiday functions, even the little one on one moments I got with too few of you.  We’ve become a family, in a way, and I hope you hold onto that.  Although Commander Chakotay and I won't be with you for the rest of your journey, we know that you'll be the same steadfast crew for Mister Tuvok as you have been for us.  We wish you a safe and speedy journey home. Our thoughts will be with you.”

Tears lodged in her throat.  Chakotay’s comforting hand rested on the middle of her back.

“Janeway out,” she finished.

“ Thank you, Captain, Commander ,” Tuvok replied. “ I am certain I speak for the entire crew when I say that we will always remember your grace and courage.  And I would like to add, it has been an honor serving with both of you.  Live long and prosper. ”

And suddenly it was quiet.  They were really alone now.  She felt her heart might break, when there in the clearing, she saw her monkey friend.  He’d returned, as if to welcome them to their new home. 

“Captain?” Chakotay asked, concerned.

“I’m not your captain, now,” she said.  “Call me Kathryn.”

Chapter Text

Chapter III

Chakotay sat deep in the woods, studying the blueprints he’d sketched while the captain - Kathryn - was busy.  It had been nearly a week since Voyager left, and he was still getting used to calling her that.  He had no surname, at least none that Terrans would typically accept as such, so it made no difference what people called him.  But as far as he could tell, no one else on Voyager called her by her first name, not even her old friend Tuvok.  He likely preferred a formal address.  But so did she, generally.  Her name was a gift to him.  

Kathryn spent much of her time with her telescope, charting the sun and stars, or so she said.  He had a feeling she was still looking for some way out of here, maybe a weakness in the forcefield.  She rarely sat still.  When she wasn’t at her telescope and charts, she was surveying the area, taking note of various animals and insects in her journal.  The scientist in her had emerged again, but somehow, he figured she was also hoping for clues for escape from the life around her.  It was ironic.  He reminded her of himself when he was young, so eager to leave paradise.

When they’d first landed so abruptly, they had cut down a large section of forest and scared the wildlife away, well except for the monkey.  Since then, the animals had slowly dared to come into view once more.  Thus far, Kathryn had catalogued deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, and insects, though luckily none of them stung or bit like they did in the jungles of Trebus.  It was interesting how much these animals resembled those on Earth, or his home village, since they had brought many animals from Earth when they took to the stars.

In spite of her enforced business, he knew she was depressed.  When he got up during the night, he spotted her in her own tiny bedchamber, still awake, often reading, or at other times, simply staring dismally.  He could accept his new surroundings, he’d been adapting for years and being back here, not worrying about the ship or other people, was a relief.  But it wasn’t that way for her.  Since she was all he had out here, it made sense to try to make life easier for her.

He’d already made her a headboard to ease her back since she sat up in bed so long leaning against the wall.  His latest project concerned something she’d mentioned in passing.  Her favorite way to relax and think up new ideas was soaking in a bathtub.  There were plenty of fallen trees to work with, and he’d already cut and stripped several of them.  He worked on his chosen project until the sun was high in the beautiful blue sky, then covered his tools in an old stump and headed back to the shelter.  One day, he might enlarge it into a log cabin, but he didn’t like to think too far into the future.

Kathryn was at her telescope again, studying the sky.  He walked past her and started dinner.  They had determined that Kathryn was safest making salads rather than cooking.  He actually liked cooking from real ingredients, just using the replicator for anything missing.  It was a far departure from his child self, who whined and complained about how stupidly long it took to do everything in his village.  As he worked, he remembered his father beating dough for tortillas on a rock for hours.  No one else had ever made tamales better than his father had.

He felt something wrap around his leg.  Oh, not again.  He kicked his leg, trying to dislodge that damned monkey Kathryn had adopted.  She’d fed it so many times that he was pretty much a pet now, and not a good one.  He never attacked Kathryn, or showed any sort of violence when she was around, but he constantly jumped on him, pulling at him and occasionally trying to bite him.

He dislodged the monkey and tossed him across the room.  Not enough to hurt him, but to send a message.

“Get out!” he shouted.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Kathryn stood in the doorway.  She wore a green, cotton dress today that covered her almost completely, but showed her figure much better than her uniform had.  While he was staring, the monkey leapt into Kathryn’s arms, chittering as if afraid.  The little monster.

“I didn’t mean you,” he said as he finished cooking some fish they’d caught yesterday and added them to two plates with some wild carrots, and mushrooms.  A garden could give them more variety. 

“You don’t have to cook for me,” she said, smiling as she inhaled the aroma.

He’d do almost anything to see her smile.

“I want to,” he said.  “Come sit.”

She sat down and the monkey chittered around her feet until she threw him a bite of her food.  He tried to ignore the pest.

“So - you’ve been spending a lot of time in the woods, “ she said.  “Anything I should know about?”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Not yet?” she asked.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She was so curious.  He couldn’t help teasing her.

“It means when it’s time for you to know, I’ll tell you.”

“Don’t I get a hint?” she asked.

“I’m building something,” he said.

“Building?  What are you building?” she asked, her eyes wide.  “And why can’t you tell me?”

She absolutely had to know what was going on every minute.

“You can’t stand it, can you?” he asked.  “You’re like a little kid wheedling.”

“I am not,” she protested, though her eyes still shone with mischief.  “Keep it to yourself, then.   I’m fine not knowing.”

“That’s good,” he said. “Because you won’t.”

She frowned, and tossed another bite of food at his nemesis.

“I was just thinking,” she said.  “We should really name him.  Any ideas?”

He had a few expletives in mind.

“What about Tuvok?” he asked.

He liked picturing the Vulcan’s expression upon discovering the monkey had his name.  She shook her head.

“I think he’s a little too silly for that,” she said.

“Neelix?” he asked.

Neelix could annoy him almost as much as Tuvok did, but he couldn’t deny that his ridiculous attempts to boost morale worked, though usually not in the way he intended.  Her face fell.

“No,” she said softly.  “No names from Voyager.”

It was so hard for her to be away from the ship.  He cared about the people on Voyager, and overall, he had enjoyed his role as first officer.  But it wasn’t who he was.  Kathryn was a captain.  He wasn’t sure if she saw herself as anything but that.  Captain encompassed everything in her life, making her rather like an estranged parent.  Protecting her crew, providing for them, yet unable to let herself really love them, or let them love her.

At one time, he would have worried for his old Maquis crew, but they had really grown into their new roles, becoming part of something bigger.  He was especially proud of B’Elanna.  He knew they could make it on their own, and so he could let them go.  And while he didn’t like Tuvok personally, there was no more capable officer to get them home safely.  

But Kathryn couldn’t let go.  Maybe that was why she’d adopted the screeching devil.

“What do you want to name him?” he asked.

Satan would not likely top her list of names.

“I was thinking of Edward,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Was your father silly?” he asked.

“No,” she said, with a hint of a smile.  “Well, he could be.  When I was very young, he’d come home from work, take off his admiral’s uniform, and my Dad would be back, ready to swing my sister and me around until my mother shouted for him to stop.”
Her look of fond remembrance mixed with sorrow touched him.  He looked down at his rival who was busily gnawing on a table leg like a beaver.

“Hey Edward,” he said.  “You’ve got a big name to live up to now.  Think you’re up to the responsibility?”

Edward the monkey looked up, almost as if he were listening.  He barked in reply.

A week of near constant work later, he was finished with his project.  He waited until she made her usual trek into the forest, then carried the pieces to their shelter and hammered them together to form a bathtub.  The wood was sanded, so it wouldn’t leave her splinters.  And he’d added a drain at the bottom.  If they started that garden later, it would water the plants.  

Eddie tried to steal his tools a few times, but he brushed him off, and shockingly, the monkey didn’t return.

He was thankful he’d asked for the forestry tools.  There was no end to the projects he could make.  Though he’d always loved woodworking, he hadn’t had much of a chance to use that skill.  Until now.  All he had to do was wait for her to find her surprise.  He had started chopping mushrooms for their dinner when he noticed the rain.  It started out in light drops, but soon it was pouring harder.  He heard thunder, and lightning streaked across the dark grey clouds.  Kathyrn was still out there.

He dropped what he was doing, pulled a blanket over his head and ran to the woods.  It didn’t take too long to find her.  The wind was so strong it knocked her from her feet when she tried to walk.  Her entire body was drenched.  He tossed the blanket over her and with his arm around her, helped her back to the shelter against the gale force winds.  It surprised him how scared she seemed.  He’d seen her face many horrible things in the Delta Quadrant without a hint of fear.

They stumbled into the house together, and he rubbed the blanket over her, trying to get her dry.  She looked out and spotted her telescope.  Before he could stop her, she ran back out, yanking her telescope and other bulky research equipment with her.  He took the equipment from her and was pushing her back toward the house when they saw it.

A long streak of lightning hit a tree with a monstrous crash, splitting it down the middle like a line of white hot lava, a stark reminder of the power of nature.  Thunder rumbled with a vengeance.  The door blew open in the wind, nearly coming off its hinges.  Hard bits of hail now slammed into the ground along with the torrential rain.

“It’s like an Indiana thunderstorm,” she said, her face pale.

For all he knew, they might be due for an Indiana tornado.  He battened down the door, and they hid under a table together as he sheltered her again with his body.  Cold water brushed over his feet.  Floodwaters were getting into the house.  This time she didn’t seem to mind his protectiveness, and clung to him until the storm finally passed.  She crawled out cautiously, and he heard her cry out in alarm. 

Her equipment had taken damage as the storm shook the shelter.  Specimen containers lay on the floor, their contents spilled. The glass in her microscope was broken, as were the legs.  She dug in her backpack.  Her field journal containing her pencil written observations and sketches was soaked so badly it was hard to read.  She threw it to the ground.

“Stupid,” she said.  “I should have used something waterproof.”

“Kathryn,” he said, touching her arm. She shrugged him away, knelt and picked up pieces of broken glass.

“Use a towel,” he said.  “Before you . . .”
A flash of red.  He grabbed a kitchen towel and wrapped it around her hand before digging for the dermal regenerator.  She laughed.  A bitter, mirthless laugh.

“You just keep fixing me, don’t you?” she asked.  “I’m useless here.”

“You’re not useless,” he said.

“ Here I am,” she said.  “I’ve never been good at ‘roughing it’.  You cook, you craft.  I screw up basic science experiments.”

“Hey,” he said, putting pressure on her hand.  “You didn’t screw up, Kathryn, it rained.  We can transfer your research, find new samples, reproduce the glass in the telescope, and build it new legs.  Your head is full of knowledge.  You just need a way to mine the inspiration.”

He quickly healed her hand with the regenerator, and led her outside.  Outside it was a swamp with standing water and marshy ground, but the air smelled so fresh and new.  She noticed the bathtub and tilted her head.

“What is that?” she asked.

When she got closer, she could see what he’d made.  She wiped some tears from her eyes. 

“You said you did your best thinking while taking a bath,” he said.  “And look, the sky already filled it up for you.”

She turned to him, a mixture of wonder and appreciation on her face.

“You made this for me,” she said.  “Why?”

“I thought it might help you feel better,” he said.

She embraced him suddenly, knocking the wind from him.  He wrapped his arms around her body and held her.  She felt so good in his arms, soft, warm, real.  His heart hammered in his chest.  When had he last held someone like this?  Was it Seska, his former lover who had betrayed them all?  He’d never had feelings like this for her.  He longed to protect Kathryn, to take care of her needs, to replace her loneliness with his love.  This was new.  He wasn’t sure when he’d started to feel this way for her; he only knew that he’d feel it forever.  

When had she last let someone hold her?  Was it Mark, the fiancee?  His picture was still on the desk in her Ready Room, as well as the one in her bedroom.  She read from the book Mark gave to her at night.  She loved Mark.  A pang of jealousy hit him.

She drew back, wiping her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, looking into his eyes like he was a savior.  He felt guilty for the jealousy.  She owed him nothing.  “How can I thank you for this?”

“You can take a bath,” he said.

She took a bath.  Almost every night.  He went to the woods and chopped at fallen trees until his hands bled.  Then he stripped the wood, sanded it, put all of his muscle into it.  First he repaired the legs of her microscope as she glued the glass back together, this time without cutting herself.  And now he had the materials for a suitable boat.  He should transfer his makeshift workbench closer to the house.  But then he’d be close to her as she sat in the tub, the water lapping at her body as she hummed with pleasure.  He’d just created his own personal hell.

With a groan, he sat down, his back against a tree, and pulled his medicine bundle from his pack.  He put his hand on the akoonah, closed his eyes, and tried to find his spirit guide, or anyone who could help him.  But his vision was too cloudy.  No advice for him.  And no way out.

He stripped and swam in the cool lake.  She’d offered him her tub, but that was hers.  This was his.  As it got darker, the water grew colder, but that was how he liked it.  Maybe it would help wash away his burning lust.

How had he come to this?  He’d sworn after Sveta’s betrayal he’d never let himself fall in love again.  If they were still on Voyager, he might not have even entertained the possibility of a romantic relationship with his captain.  There were too many reasons against it.  But now the reasons had narrowed.  A small light flashed across the pond.

“Chakotay!”

Kathryn stood on the shore of the lake with her light, wearing that soft, thin, wrap-around thing she wore after a bath.  Oh, please say she didn’t want to swim with him again.  He swam closer to her.

“What is it?” he asked.

She smiled.  Her hair was still damp, and hung over her shoulder.  What would it be like to run his fingers through it?

“You’re out past curfew,” she said, in that flirty way of hers.

“I didn’t realize there was one,” he said.

“You keep coming out here,” she said.  “And staying so late.  Working on another project?”

She had no idea.

“I think maybe we should talk,” he said.

She handed him his towel and turned her head as he changed back into his clothes.  What exactly was he going to say?

“What is this?” she asked.

She’d discovered the prepped wood pile.

“Just another project.”

“You’ve done so much for me,” she said.  “So many things to make our lives easier here.”

There was something else in her body language besides gratitude.  She sat awkwardly, fumbling with the wood.

“Every time I do something that adds a personal touch to the shelter, you resist it,” he said.  “It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”

“You’re so focused on making a home here,” she said.  “It’s like you’ve given up on us ever leaving this place.”

He sat down beside her.

“I can’t sacrifice the present waiting on a future that may never happen,” he said.  “Maybe we’ll find a way to escape.  But we may never leave here.  That’s just reality, Kathryn.  So yes, I’m trying to make us a home.”

“I can’t just settle for that,” she said.  “I have to have hope.”

How long would it take for her to accept their situation?   Would she ever accept it?

“Do you want me to show you my latest project?” he asked.

He pulled out his blueprints.  She held her light over them.

“A boat!” she exclaimed.

“I thought we could use the river to explore the planet more easily, but without the noise and interference of the shuttle,” Chakotay said, encouraged by her excitement.  “You can bring your new field journal.”
She was happy again.  And every bit of work he’d done was worth it.

“I want to help you put it together,” she said.  “I’m not a master woodsmith like you, but I can follow directions.”

She nudged him playfully.

“You’re hired,” he said.

“When do we start?” she asked.

Suddenly, a blinding light passed overhead with a booming rumble. Wind whipped through the trees.  They huddled together, protecting their eyes and ears.  If it weren’t for the light, he would expect a storm was brewing.  Several minutes passed, and finally the noise stopped, the wind died down, and the forest returned to a quiet darkness.  Slowly, they looked up again.

“What the hell was that?” Kathryn asked.

Chapter Text

Chapter IV

Kathryn and Chakotay emerged from the forest to get a better look, but found no sign of the ship.  And then a faint hope emerged.  What if it was a shuttle from Voyager?  It didn’t seem like a big ship.  Of all the times to not be wearing her combadge.

“We should check the radio,” she said.

Chakotay wasn’t as excited as she was.  He likely doubted the possibility.  Still, he followed her back to the shelter.  By the time they got there, she’d broken into a run.  Then she stopped just as suddenly.  There was no sign of activity on the radio.  She fiddled with it, but soon enough it was obvious.  That hadn’t been Voyager.  They would have searched higher and for longer.  They’d have tried to communicate with them.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Disappointment gave way to anxiety.

“If that thing wasn’t from Voyager, where is it from?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.  “The way it hovered like that.  Maybe it was looking for someone or something.”

That brought up a whole new host of questions.

“Who or what are they looking for?” Kathryn asked.  “Is it us?  Something else?  Are they friend or foe?”

“Again, I don’t know,” Chakotay said.  “But they passed us by without trying to communicate with or harm us.  Maybe we’re of no interest to them.”

“They could come back,” she said.

He nodded, thoughtful.

“That’s why I suggest we lay low for the time being, and stick together.  No going out alone.  We’ll take our phasers when we do, just in case.”

That seemed sensible.  Part of her wanted to set out in the shuttle, to find out everything they could about the planet.  But they didn’t know how well it would fly long distances.  They would undoubtedly attract even more attention that way.  If they crashed, they could be in far worse shape. 

But still, she felt like a sitting duck.

“We have plenty to do here,” he said.

“Like the boat.”

“Not just that,” he said.  “We don’t have as much variety in our meals as I’d like.  We could start a garden.  I might be able to add on to the house too, give us more space, and make it safer.”

The very idea made Kathryn feel the walls closing in around her, trapping her within like an insect drowning in a pitcher plant.  But Chakotay was so sincere.  He desperately wanted to make this place livable for her.  So she set aside her fear for him.

That night, she thought about the strange ship.  And then it hit her.  One of their first nights on New Earth, she had a dream about an Indiana thunderstorm complete with the high winds, flashes of lightning, and booming thunder.  At least that was what she’d assumed it had been, but the next morning there was no sign of a storm.  She’d shrugged it off as a dream.

But what if it’d been real?  She got up, pulled on her robe, and looked for Chakotay.  He wasn’t in bed.  She found him digging in the earth.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting a garden ready,” he said.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Ran out of reading material.”

He was focused on his work.  She leaned against the doorway.

“One of our first nights on Nepenthe, I dreamed of this huge storm, blinding lightning, booming thunder, high winds.  At least I thought it was a dream. Do you remember anything like that?

“You think there was a storm?”

“I think it might have been that ship,” she said.

He looked up finally.

“I can’t imagine sleeping through a visit from that ship,” he said.  “Or through one of the storms on this planet for that matter.”

He was probably right. But the similarities were uncanny.  Chakotay put aside his tools and brushed the dirt from his hands as he stood.

“I think both our minds are running away with us,” he said.  “We should be sleeping.”

They walked inside the shelter.

“You could replicate a few more books,” she said.  “Or you can borrow one of mine.”

“Not sure I want to read about an inferno this late.”

She shook her head.

“I do have other books,” she said.  “How about some poetry?”

“I’d like that,” he said.

She returned to bed, but when she slept, she dreamt of strange monsters in the night.

Kathryn lay on her belly examining her new seedlings.  Tiny green shoots had emerged, fragile but steady.  If her mother could see her now.

“How are they coming?”  Chakotay asked.

He kneeled down beside her.

“We should have vine-ripened Talaxian tomatoes in a couple of months,” she said, staring at the tiny plants in wonder.

“I never would have thought of you as a gardener,” he said.

“I grew up around farmers,” she said.  “My parents insisted I learn.  I wanted to go to the Starfleet Academy preparatory institute, but they expected a well-rounded education with so-called practical knowledge.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You wanted to be studying Quantum physics instead of messing around in the dirt,” he guessed.

“I did,” she admitted.  “But I find it strangely satisfying now.”

“Good,” he said, flashing a smile at her.

Weeks had passed since the ship sighting.  Whoever those beings were, they had not returned.  She and Chakotay had spent much more time together lately, building, gardening, and planning new projects.  He knew he could distract her from her worries with work.  Another storm had hit them, but they’d braced the shelter better, and this time water did not get in.  Chakotay did have to drag in the boat that night which took up most of the shelter.

He spent most of his time on the boat, often staying up until the early hours of morning.  She enjoyed spending time with Chakotay, but she noticed he was often strangely uncomfortable with her.  

“Did you check on the boat?” she asked.  “Is it ready to sail?”

Last night he had sealed it.

“I already tested it this morning,” he teased.

Chakotay usually got up hours before she did, since it took her so long to fall asleep.  It annoyed her that he hadn't waited.

“Without me?” she tossed some dirt at him.

He shielded himself, laughing.

“It would have been a short trip,” he said.  “I believe I’ve plugged the last hole, though.  Want to go on an adventure?”

Did she ever!  She forgot her irritation with him immediately.  The trap she was in seemed to spring open, and she dashed into the house right away to pack.

The boat was small, around three meters, but it was theirs.  Kathryn was incredibly proud of what they’d done.  They sat across from each other, as the boat floated gently on the river.  The weather was perfect, with bright sunshine and a refreshing breeze.  

“Did you pack enough?” he joked.

She had taken as much as they could carry and still keep the boat afloat.

“I packed essentials,” she said.  “So we can stay out here longer.  You’ll thank me later.”

“Essentials like coffee,” he said with a smile.

“Obviously,” she smiled back.  “When I was young, my father took us on backpacking trips.  He didn’t want us to grow too soft on our cushy technology.  But I hated it.  No bed.  No replicator.”

“No bathtub,” he added.

“No bathtub,” she laughed.  “I was a child of the 24th century.”

“I made the same arguments to my father,” Chakotay said.  “We didn’t have one replicator in the entire colony.  Our whole lives were like one of your camping trips.   I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

She saw the regret in his eyes.  And she wondered again about his past, his home, the people he’d loved and lost.  He shared the fun stories, but none of the dark ones.  But then, she wasn’t that open about her darkness either.  

“Maybe those camping trips prepared you for life out here,” he said.

“Oh, no,” she said.  “Life here is much better than that.”

His face brightened immediately, and he was more radiant than the sun.  She hadn’t seen him that happy in too long.  And all it had taken was a few words.  She realized how difficult she’d made things, but he’d never complained.  He’d only tried to make things better.  For her.

She let herself look at him.  Really look without turning away or distracting herself.  He gazed back at her, caressing her with his eyes, and she felt that gaze all over her body.  Excitement mixed with trepidation.  She looked away first, taking in the bright green foliage surrounding them.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take the Beast with us,” Chakotay said.

He constantly called the monkey names.  Edward was a little proper for a monkey, she had to admit.

“I’m sure he’ll do well without us,” she said.

“He has learned to open all the cabinets by himself,” Chakotay nodded.

“Like a toddler,” she said with a laugh.

“Did you ever think about having children?” he asked.

The topic had suddenly turned serious.  She shifted, uncomfortable at the memories that question brought.  Mark had pleaded with her to start a family.  But she wasn’t ready then.

“At one time,” she said.

“With Mark,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.  “With Mark.”

She examined an imaginary hole in the boat.

“You still love him,” he said, his voice strained.

Where was he going with this, she wondered.

“I do,” she said.  “But . . . it’s not like it was before I left.  Too much time has gone by and . . . I need to accept that he likely thinks I’m dead.  I was never really fair to him anyway.  Even before I left I kept pushing off the wedding, because I was focused on my career at that time.  We just wanted different things.”

He met her eyes.

“You are an incredible captain,” he said.  “But that isn’t all you are.”

           He didn’t understand.  She was born into Starfleet.  She lived it, breathed it.

“That’s all I know,” she said.

“That’s not all I know,” he said. 

Ice water filled her veins and she felt like she was drowning again, reaching out futilely for a lifeline.  She shoved her oar into the water, pushing them down the river.  He rowed with her.  They didn’t speak much, just took little breaks to eat and drink before pressing on again.  She kept at it until her arms and shoulders were killing her.

“This looks like a nice place,” he spoke up.  “We could set up camp here.”

She let the oar rest.  It was a nice place, not too much greenery to dig through, but enough trees around them to give a little privacy and protection.  They tied the boat to a tree and emerged onto dry land.  Her legs wobbled.

“I’ll set up camp,” he volunteered.

No way was she letting him do that all by himself.  She gathered her strength, and helped him set up the tent, and build a small fire pit.  He cooked some soup over the fire.  He was constantly coming up with new creations, adding different spices and flavors.

“Mmm,” she said.  The soup filled her belly with warmth.  “I can only imagine what you’ll do with the tomatoes.”

“Do you like spaghetti?” he asked.

“I love spaghetti,” she said.  

The last time she remembered eating it was at home, at her mother’s house.  He sipped his soup.

“This could use more oregano,” he said.

She almost laughed.  Two years ago, she had left Earth to hunt him down.  This leader of a Maquis resistance cell.  A dangerous criminal and traitor to Starfleet.  How menacing he’d looked when he’d first beamed onto her ship. 

“Something funny?” he asked.

“I was just reflecting on how much has changed since we met,” she said.  “I figured you thought of yourself as some kind of space cowboy, flouting the rules.”

“I figured you thought of yourself as the queen of the universe, ruthlessly enforcing those rules.”

“Queen of the universe?” she asked, and winced at her sudden movement.

She laughed a little at herself as she grumbled in pain, rubbing her sore shoulders.  “I’m not used to this kind of work.  Or maybe I’m just old.  I think my knots have knots.”

“I don’t think you’re old,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Because that would make me old too.”

“Ah.”

She kept rubbing.

“Here, let me help,” he said, walking over and kneeling behind her.

“You’re a masseuse too?”

“I know a few things,” he said.  “My mother got sore backs.  She was a hard worker, never idle.  I was the only one she trusted not to make it worse.”  

He talked about his father often, but not his mother.  She started to ask why when he touched her hair, gathering it in his hands.  She sat up straighter, her body on full alert, every nerve ending tingling.  He placed her hair over her shoulder.  Then she felt his hands on her skin, gently rubbing her shoulders, and she leaned into his warm touch.  

“Oh, that feels good,” she said.

He kneaded her muscles, gradually increasing the pressure, and she closed her eyes, caught in the sensation.  She lost all sense of time as he pressed deeper into her skin, then drew back gently, developing a rhythm she never wanted to end.  Resistance was futile.   

He stopped suddenly.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.  

Only now did she realize tears were falling down her face.  And she had no idea why.  The facade she’d so carefully created was crumbling.

“No,” she said, pulling away.  “That - that feels much better, thank you.  I - uh - I’m going to bed now.”

Anything to escape.  Chakotay let her go.

Early the next morning, they started again down the river, and after a few hours the forest started to thin out and they could see more hilly areas, with some mountains in the background.  A spread of wildflowers, pink, purple, blue, yellow, every color imaginable created a path upward.  

Tiny colorful birds nipped at the river’s edge, and she caught sight of other small animals.  Rabbits, deer, foxes.  The riverbed and the flowers also attracted something they shockingly had not experienced in large numbers yet.  Insects.  Mosquitos, bees, and other flying insects she couldn’t recognize buzzed around them.  After swatting a few of them, she retrieved her insect repellant.

“And you thought we wouldn’t need this,” she teased as she applied the ointment to herself.

“You’ve proved me wrong,” he said, with a half-hearted smile.

The awkwardness remained, like an elephant sandwiched between them.  She shared the ointment with him, and watched as he rubbed it on his neck.  The way his hands had touched her still resonated on her skin.  She looked away.  Not long after, the water picked up speed, and they concentrated on rowing through the rapids for nearly an hour.  

As the river waters slowed down to a normal pace, she relaxed her oars.  

“Do you smell that?” Chakotay asked.

She took in a breath and noticed a pungent, earthy aroma.  

“A storm is coming,” she said, glancing above.  “Only a few clouds.”

“For now,” Chakotay said.  “The insects and animals are gone too.”

Not a good sign.  They hadn’t made that much time today, but staying on the river with a storm approaching wasn’t a smart idea.   Chakotay tied up the boat again, and they slung on their very heavy backpacks.  The terrain was more difficult here, rockier and steeper.  

“Let’s get to higher ground,” she said.  “Maybe we’ll find an outcropping or some sort of shelter.”

They hiked steadily upward, the hill turning into a mountain.  The clouds darkened gradually and the rain started in small sprinkles.  No sign of a good shelter.  They pulled on their rain ponchos and quickened their pace.

With a crash of thunder, the clouds opened and rain poured down.  Her foot slid on some rocks, and Chakotay caught her arm before she could fall.

“We need to empty these backpacks,” he said.

They dumped out their belongings, only keeping the most dire essentials.  Losing the weight helped, but the wind was against them, and they struggled with every meter.  She held up her light, peered through the rain and noticed something, a large, strangely shaped dark blot.

“Binoculars,” she said.  She had to yell to be heard over the storm.

Chakotay retrieved them for her and she looked ahead.  Just as she thought.  There was a structure of some kind ahead, and it wasn’t from nature.

“What is it?” he asked.

She handed the binoculars to Chakotay.

“Look!” she said, pointing.  

Chakotay peered through the binoculars in the direction she pointed, puzzled a moment before he saw it too, nestled in the shadows of the mountains. 

“A house?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” Kathryn said.

Neither had to say anything more.  They both knew what it meant.  Other intelligent beings had been here, beings capable of building a shelter.  They might be potential allies.  On the other hand, they might be enemies.  Maybe it belonged to the beings from the ship that had invaded their woods.  She couldn’t see a spacecraft of some kind yet, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

“Maybe they’ll offer shelter,” Chakotay yelled.

Water slid down his dark hair and over his face.  They were both drenched to the core in spite of their ponchos.  She nodded and they started again.  They both slipped on the rocks and the grass.  Chakotay kept an arm around her waist.  Normally she’d be annoyed, but she knew it was the only thing keeping her upright.  He was barely making it.

She didn’t know how long they’d been walking, or even what time of day it was through all the rain.  Too many hours, not enough kilometers.  But finally, they reached a shelf of land near the homestead.  The water was nearly up to her calves.  They could drown out here.  Two insects in a pitcher plant.

 It was a strange house, formed from old, rusty pieces of spacecraft and rotting wood.  The building looked ready to give way with the slightest push.  Kathryn looked back.  A funnel cloud dipped toward the ground. 

Chakotay looked back as well, then at her.

“Do you need me to carry you?” he asked, completely serious.

She stubbornly waded as fast as she could the last meters and pounded on the door.  They waited, rain slapping against their backs.  No response.  The place was probably abandoned.  They gave in and slammed their bodies against the front door.  It opened partially, and she stuck her hand through the small opening, gripped the bolt and shoved it aside.  The door finally gave way, wind and water blowing into the house.  Chakotay had to use all his body weight to shut it again as she slid the bolt back through the door.  

Kathryn moved her light around the house, water dripping in puddles as she moved.  They passed through a kitchen area, and into a second room, likely a bedroom.  Chakotay took her arm and led her to a small closet.  They squeezed inside, shut the door, and held on for dear life.

Chapter Text

Chapter V

Chakotay and Kathryn huddled together as the storm assaulted the house.  The tiny closet they shared left them no extra room.  Only the light from Kathryn’s hand light lit up both their faces.  Rain slammed on the metal roof like a bass drum, the high winds screeched a sharp, eerie tune, and loud cracks of thunder shook the room. 

And the storm wasn’t ending any time soon.

“Ever had storms this bad in Indiana?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said.  “We had to go down to grandfather’s cellar.  It was awful.  Black as night.  Cold.  Dirt walls.  Mice.  Old jars of who-knew-what someone canned centuries ago.”

“Organs?” he asked.

“Not funny,” Kathryn said, but there was amusement in her voice.

It was cold and dark in the closet.  

“If there are mice, at least we can’t see them,” he said.

“We may die in this closet,” she muttered.  “And now you have me worrying about rodents.”

He could feel her rain soaked hair and clothes against his own drenched body, and hear her heartbeat thrumming in his ears.  She’d never admit it, but he knew she was scared.

“You’re not going to die here,” he assured her.  “You can’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you are Captain Kathryn Janeway,” he said.  “You’re destined to go down in a blaze of glory.”

She snorted.

“I see.  And what about you?”

“I used to think I would too,” he said.  “But now I hope to die a very old man, surrounded by my family.”

“How about a youngish man surrounded by one woman and some mice?”

“I always knew you were secretly Cinderella.”

“Seriously, Chakotay,” she said, losing the teasing in her voice.  “What do you want for the future?”

He wanted her.  But talking to her was like playing chess.  Moves and countermoves.  If he made the wrong move too fast, he’d lose.

“Let me tell you another ancient legend,” he said.  “It's about an angry warrior who lived his life in conflict with the rest of his tribe, a man who couldn't find peace, even with the help of his spirit guide. For years, he struggled with his discontent. But the only satisfaction he ever got came when he was in battle. This made him a hero among his tribe, but the warrior still longed for peace within himself.”

She was watching him, listening intently.  He pushed on.

“One day he and his war party were captured by a neighboring tribe led by a woman warrior. She called on him to join her because her tribe was too small and weak to defend itself from all its enemies. The woman warrior was brave and beautiful and very wise. The angry warrior swore to himself that he would stay by her side, doing whatever he could to make her burden lighter. From that point on, her needs would come first. And in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace.”

He’d probably made his metaphor a little too obvious.  But she looked into his eyes, visibly moved, a tear sliding down her face.  

“What happened to them - the male and female warriors?” she asked.

He took a breath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “It hasn’t been written yet.”

“Well,” she said.  “I think the woman warrior saw that the once angry warrior was strong, and kind, and . . . beautiful.  But she held onto her heart because she had been broken before, and her tribe needed the strength of both warriors leading it to survive.”

“What if there was no tribe?” he asked.  “What if they were just two  warriors that had found each other in the wilderness?”

He held up his hand, and she clutched it.  How incredible it felt to hold her hand, and yet at the same time, so natural.  She hesitantly touched his chin with her other hand, the light from her hand light illuminating the face that could show so many things, righteousness, anger, fear, sadness, and laughter.  He could usually read her expression, but not when it came to this.  He swallowed, but made no other move toward her.  

Thunder boomed suddenly and they both leapt in surprise.  He winced inside, feeling they’d lost their moment, but then she wrapped her arms around him, and laid her head on his chest.  And they held each other through the rest of the storm.

Eventually, the rain slowed down and they dared to look up again.  Kathryn shivered.  Their drenched clothes were plastered to them like chilly second skins.  They needed warmth.  Chakotay cautiously pushed open the door and crawled out, Kathryn right behind him. He dug through the backpacks.

“Where are the extra clothes?” he asked.

“You dumped them out, remember?” Kathryn asked.

“Why did you let me do that?”

She rolled her eyes in response.  Daylight streamed in from the cracks between the boarded down windows, and finally they could see clearly.  The room had two beds, bunks from the ship likely, as well as a cradle.  Little wooden toys scattered the room.  There were two chests, as well as a sort of end table.  A candle lay on the floor beside it.  Chakotay opened the chest curiously.  There were stacks of clothes and other personal belongings inside.

They moved back into the other room containing a kitchen, with a long dead hearth fire, and a spit for cooking.  In the metal cabinets, they found rotted fruit and vegetables.  A rickety wooden table was flanked by two cushioned chairs, likely from the spacecraft.   A crude vase containing a long dead plant lay in broken pieces beside the table.  A spider, the only sign of life, spun away on a silver web that stretched from the table to the unlit lantern hanging from the ceiling.  The lantern still swayed back and forth on its creaky metal chain.

“It looks like a family lived here,” Kathryn whispered.  “I wonder where they went.”

And why, Chakotay wondered.

“Wherever they went, they left in a hurry,” Chakotay added.  “There are personal items left behind.  And from the looks of it, they haven’t been back.”

“Think we can get a fire going?” Kathryn asked.  “Or did you throw out your flint too?”

“I didn’t throw out the flint,” he grumbled.

She smiled, then covered her mouth as she started coughing.  He didn’t like the sound of that cough.  Chakotay got a fire going.  Kathryn kneeled beside him.  Her wet clothes clung to the shape of her body.  He quickly looked back at the fire.

“We need to get out of these clothes,” he said.

“And into what?” she asked.

“There were clothes in one of the trunks.”

“We’re taking their clothes now?” 

“It’s better than freezing,” he said.  “You already sound sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

Of course not.  He warmed himself in front of the fire.  Kathryn disappeared into the other room then returned with a heap of clothing.

“I think some of these might fit you,” she said.  “I’m shocked.”

“Any teeny tiny enough for you?” he asked.

She flung some clothes at his head.  He found a long sleeved blue shirt made of a rough cotton with stripes radiating from the collar and along the cuffs, a long, fur-lined leather tunic, leather pants, and a metal belt.

“Looks a little like your romantic style,” she teased.

“Romantic?” he asked.

She laughed lightly.

“Your leisure clothes resemble something out of a Byronic novel,” she said.  “Especially with you soaked by the rain.”

Well, that was oddly specific.  He didn’t see anything romantic about either his clothes or the clothes he held in his hands.  The scent of the leather brought back strong memories.

“There are some boots too, with metal plates,” Kathryn said.

“Don’t these clothes look familiar?” Chakotay asked.

She studied a long, shapeless cotton shift dress.

“How so?” she asked.

“Kazon,” he said.  “They look like Kazon clothing.”

She tilted her head.

“Maybe,” she said.  “But they aren’t the only ones to wear those types of clothes.”

Maybe so.  

“Oh,” Kathryn said.

She held up a much smaller tunic.

“They did have children,” she said.

Chakotay remembered the cradle and the toys.  A shudder went up his spine at the thought.  Where were Seska and her Kazon friends now, he wondered.  Was she really carrying his son, or had that all been another ruse?

“Chakotay?”

He nodded his head.

“Right, uh, let’s change,” he said.

He gratefully pulled off his wet shirt and rang out the water.  Reluctantly, he tried on the Kazon shirt.  It still had the body odor of its former wearer but at least it was warm.  Kathryn emerged from the bedroom in a shapeless black tunic that still looked good on her.  It really had been a very long time since he’d . . . his thoughts were interrupted by rustling outside.  Kathryn moved toward the door, curious.  The door burst open and in seconds, a cloaked figure had Kathryn in a choke hold, and some phaser-like weapon pressed against her head.  Kathryn stared at him, her eyes wide.  His blood turned to ice.

“Let her go,” he said.

“Leave or I kill your woman.”

The voice was rough but higher pitched than he’d expected.

“You have no need to hurt her,” Chakotay said, softening his voice.

“Get. Out.”

He couldn’t get a good look at the figure’s features under the cloak, but he didn’t appear to be that large.  If he could get him to drop the weapon . . .

“We aren’t a threat to you,” Chakotay said, taking a cautious step forward.

The arm tightened around Kathryn’s throat.  He stopped.

“You invaded my home.”

“We thought it was abandoned,” Chakotay explained.  “We were desperate to get out of the storm.”

“You’re wearing his clothes.”

“And we were drenched to the skin,” Chakotay added.  “Surely . . .”

“I will kill her.”

He heard the whine of a phaser pressed to maximum.  His heart drummed in his ears.

“We’ll leave,” he promised.  “Just let her go.”

He waited, not daring to move yet.  Seconds passed.  It was still raining out there, but if that weapon was fired, Kathryn was dead.

“Go,” the voice said.

He turned to the door, glancing behind him.

“Eyes. Forward.”

The figure waved the phaser at him - a mistake.  Kathryn bit down on the arm, and he heard a sharp cry as the weapon hit the floor.  Then Kathryn kicked back against the legs of her assailant, and when their arms loosened, Kathryn slipped out of their grasp.  Together he and Kathryn they forced the figure to the floor.  Kathryn picked up the phaser and held it on the stranger.

He pulled back the hood, finally getting a look at Kathryn’s assailant.  Orange skin, facial ridges, clumps of dark hair.  Kazon, as he suspected.  A Kazon woman.  She struggled against him.  It surprised him how petite she actually was - a little like the captain she had just tried to jump.

“We won’t hurt you,” Chakotay said.  He tilted his head in Kathryn’s direction.  Kathryn put down the weapon.  “I am Chakotay.  That is Janeway.  What is your name?”

“Tursa,” the Kazon said, realizing the struggle was useless.  “I am yours, great Maje.”

She lowered her eyes.

“We are not Kazon,” Kathryn said.  “We are human.  We don’t own people.”

Tursa paid her no attention.  How long had she been here?  Had she even heard of humans?

“I’m not a Maje,” Chakotay said.  “I’m just a man.  Janeway and I are human.  Is this your house?”

“It was,” Tursa said.

He shared a glance with Kathryn.

“If I let you up, will you run?” Chakotay asked.

“No, Maje,” she said, still looking down.  She’d quickly switched tactics from aggressive to submissive.  The Kazon treated their women like slaves.

He let go and she stayed as she was.

“What happened to your home, Tursa?” he asked.

“Our ship was attacked.  We got into an escape pod.  It crashed,” Tursa said.  “My Maje built a new home for us.  We lived well.  Had children.”

A pause.

“Then They came,” she said, her voice clearly frightened.  

Chakotay could see Kathryn’s thoughts matched his own.

“Who are They ?” he asked.  “Can you describe them?”

“Skinwalkers,” she said.

He’d heard the term used before, most notably in Earth’s Navajo mythology.  But he had a feeling she wasn’t describing a myth. 

“Why do you call them skinwalkers?” he asked.

“Because they wear the skin of another.”

“Vidians,” Kathryn said.

“How did the skinwalkers come here?” Chakotay asked.

“In a strange ship with noise and bright lights,” Tursa said. “They took my Maje first.  The children and I - we hid in the caves.  We survived.  But They came back.  And when I turned my head . . . the children wandered from the cave.  I am all that is left.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kathryn said gently.  “We have also encountered these skinwalkers.  You may stay with us and we will protect you.”

“But you have no home,” Tursa said. “And no clothes.”

Kathryn laughed lightly at herself.

“She has a point,” Chakotay said.

“There is safety in numbers,” Kathryn said.  

Was there?  The Kazon they had encountered were not the brightest fighters, but they were strong.  The Vidians bested a warrior and a mother protecting her young.  Why hadn’t the Vidians taken Tursa, he wondered. He turned to Kathryn.

“They got through the forcefield,” Chakotay said.  “How?”

“Remember when we first encountered the Vidians?” Kathryn asked

“Unfortunately.”

“They had a highly sophisticated forcefield hiding their … storage facility.”

Chakotay nodded.

“You think they made the forcefield around the planet?” he asked.  “One that could let people in but not out?”

“It’s a possibility,” she said.  “Their technology is greater than ours is.  We were lured to that moon by dilithium.  People are likely lured here because of how beautiful and bountiful it is.”

“Or they got caught in a storm, like we did.”

“They wouldn’t have to kill us immediately,” she said.  “They could let us stay - fresh - until they need our particular organs.”

Let them stay.  And breed more victims.  He felt sick.  He didn’t know if the planet was real or a facility.  Either way, they’d been lured and trapped here.  No wonder Ufur’s people called the planet Nepenthe.  Ufur.  They’d probably plucked him right out of his grave, when Kathryn had her spaceship dream.  Were they looking for Kathryn and him that night in the forest?  Maybe they’d just scanned them.  For later.

What if he and Kathryn had settled here together, tried to raise a family, only to be viciously slaughtered for parts?  Any dreams he’d had for their future went up in smoke.

They had to escape this place, or die.  There were no other options.

It was nightfall when they reached the caves Tursa had described to them.

“We will be safer here,” she said.  

“Maybe their scanners can’t detect us through the rock,” Kathryn suggested.

Kathryn had continued to cough as they walked.  They’d quite likely been exposed to mold in that closet, or any number of other things.  Her cough was loud and deep and came with a wheeze.  She continued to wipe her nose.  She might have a cold, which would be no big deal on Voyager, but could quickly go south out here.

The cave was rough, but Tursa had created a fire pit with a spit over it, sleeping areas lined with moss, and placed a few large furs around the cave.  She apparently had brought one trunk with her, likely holding what belongings she’d managed to save.  It had to have been hard for her to drag that trunk so far.  She unlocked it and pulled out a large pot.  The missing pot from the hearth fire.

They got settled and Chakotay looked through the medkit.

“I don’t need anything,” Kathryn protested, her voice hoarse.

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered.

Tursa flinched at his words.  Words like that and worse had likely been uttered to her far too many times.

“I didn’t mean that,” Chakotay assured her.  “Janeway is stubborn about taking help.”

Kathryn watched Tursa with sympathy.  He used her momentary distraction to inject her with antibiotics.  Tursa filled the pot with some of the remaining rain still falling, then put it onto the spit while adding ingredients.  Soon the cave smelled incredible.  There was likely deer meat in this stew.  Tursa spooned out a bowl, and pointed the bowl at Kathryn.  Ah.

“Thank you,” he said.  “I’m sure this will help with her cold.”

He gave some to Kathryn.  She took a hesitant first spoonful, then hurriedly began eating the rest.  It was a very good stew with meat, several vegetables and some unique herbs he couldn’t name.  Likely Tursa had discovered the herbs herself.   And she had to have hunted the deer too.  Chakotay hoped the stew’s ingredients helped Kathryn.  If nothing else, the warmth would help.

After they ate, he sat outside the cave for a while, watching the sun set and the stars come into view. What a beautiful place this was, with land fit for farming, plenty of water sources, usually good weather and many natural resources.  He could have been happy living here the rest of his life with Kathryn.  Seeing her gradually relax had given him hope that she might be happy too.  If only the Vidians hadn’t shown up to ruin it. 

He wondered idly where Voyager was now.  How the crew was doing.  He hadn’t thought that much of the ship since they’d come here. 

“I wonder where they are now?”  Kathryn asked as she sat down beside him.  Her coughing had died down.

“It’s been months,” Chakotay said.  “A long way from here I’m sure.”

“Maybe they found a wormhole, or some other way home,” she said.

Not that this would do the two of them any good.

“Maybe so,” he said.

She slid her arm through his.

“You should get some rest,” he said.

“So should you,” she said.  “Let’s go to bed.”

She said that as if they were a couple.  He felt that same lonely pain again, but he pushed it aside and followed her to one of the sleeping areas.  Tursa had already fallen asleep a distance away.  They covered up in one of the furs, and Kathryn laid her head on his chest.  She had to hear his heart racing.  In the darkness, he felt her hand on his face again, turning his head in her direction.  And then she kissed him.  It was light at first, but then she parted his lips with hers and his body and mind caught fire.  He forced himself to concentrate only on that kiss, the best, most anticipated kiss he could ever remember having in his life.

When they finally paused for breath, she whispered to him.  “I wanted to do that - just in case . . .”

He kissed her back, long and slow, pulling her sun-dried hair out of her braid so he could comb his fingers through her hair.  She slid her hands over his chest, and he nearly groaned.  

“Kathryn,” he whispered.  “We have to stop before we wake Tursa.”

“For now,” she agreed.

Oh, of all the times.  He couldn’t get used to this, not just the desire but the love that threatened to burst through his chest.  She wrapped her arms around him and laid her forehead close to his. Nothing should happen between them, not now, and yet he knew he could never resist her.  He stayed where he was, holding her, unable to move back or forward, but resigned to that moment.

He didn’t know how long they’d been sleeping when they were awoken by a blinding light and that ear-splitting rumble.  The ship had returned.

Chapter Text

Chapter VI

Kathryn sat up and looked around her.  It was still dark in the cave.  She circled her hand light.  

“Where is Tursa?” she asked.

Chakotay shared her look of concern.  Shielding their eyes, they stepped outside, just as a phaser blast lit up the night.

“Never again!” Tursa cried.

Kathryn reached into the backpack and grabbed the phasers, tossing one to Chakotay.  A Vidian held Tursa’s limp body in his arms and headed back to the ship.  Kathryn fired her phaser and the would-be kidnapper and his victim fell. 

She ran toward the ship.

“Kathryn!” Chakotay called after her.

She continued running, half-blind, as another Vidian emerged from the ship, shooting his weapon.  He missed her but hit Chakotay, who yelped in pain as he hit the ground.   Like Tursa had said, no more.  She shot the Vidian and he fell.  The ship’s hatch started to close.  Oh, no they didn’t.  

“Kathryn!” Chakotay called after her again as she slid inside the hatch at the last second.  Three more Vidians were on the small bridge, one with his back to her in what appeared to be a captain’s chair.  They didn’t look much like fighters in their white coats.  She kept her weapon ready.

“Why do you attack us?” the Vidian captain asked, turning. She nearly recoiled in horror.  He had Ufur’s face.  “We are on a mission of mercy.”
“Mercy?” she asked, her weapon trained on the captain.  

“I am Captain Lotan,” he introduced himself, as if they were meeting for tea.

“And I’m Captain Janeway,” she said dryly.  “You took the lungs from a member of my crew, you murdered a Kazon woman’s husband, murdered her children!  You just shot my first officer.  And you’re going to pay for it.”

“We are only trying to survive,” Lotan began.

“I’ve already heard your story,” she spat.  “Your suffering does not excuse you from inflicting it on others.  I represent the United Federation of Planets. You do not want to make an enemy of us.”

“You want to protect your people,” Lotan said.  “So do we.  I am sorry, Captain Janeway.”

Lotan looked at one of his crew.

“Deploy the gas,” he said.

Kathryn fired her phaser, hitting the console just behind Lotan as the gas choked her.  She felt herself falling as she lost consciousness.

When she woke, she lay strapped to a metal table.  She could hardly move except to turn her head.  To her right lay Tursa.  And to her left lay Chakotay, eyes closed, with a blaster burn on the knee of his pants.

“Chakotay,” she said.

He opened his eyes and glared at her.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.

“I couldn’t let them get away,” she said.

“Getting us captured was much better.”

“I was trying to protect you and Tursa.”

“By killing yourself?”  he asked.  “What made you think you could take on a ship of Vidians by yourself?” 

She felt the guilt flow over her.

“You said it,” she said.  “I’m going out in a blaze of glory.”

“Not now you aren’t,” he cried.  “Not as long as I have breath in my body!  Which might not be much longer.”

She swallowed.  There was no use in arguing.

“We need a new plan,” she said.

Chakotay glanced at both of their restraints.

“I can’t wait to hear yours,” he said.

“How hurt are you?” she asked.

“They healed me.  Your prey should be healthy when you kill it.”

She thought of Ufur and fought a shudder.  They had no weapons. They were restrained.  They were outnumbered.  She really hadn’t thought this out. But she wasn’t giving up until they killed her.

“I managed to get a signal out,” Chakotay said.

“What?  When?” Kathryn asked.

“I searched a Vidian and found his transmitter before they came for me,” he said.

“Did you reach anybody?”

“No,” he said.  “Voyager must be too far gone to get it.”

But there was hope.  She smiled at Chakotay.

“I’ve always been able to count on you,” she said.

He didn’t look at her, but she could see the pain in his eyes.  And she felt that pain just as if it was hers.

“I love you,” she said, realizing it even as she said it.

He turned to her then, his eyes wide.  The doors swished open and two Vidians wearing white coats typically associated with scientists walked inside.  She’d been a science officer, and what they practiced was not science.  They carried two pronged weapons she’d seen before, when they’d taken Neelix’s lungs.  These devices were more than just weapons, they used a neural stimulator to stun their victims while they read their entire DNA sequence, the better to help them extract the proper organs.  

“Take me,” Kathryn insisted.

“No, take me.”

Chakotay.  Tursa remained quiet.

“We usually do not have ready volunteers,” one Vidian noted.

“Admirable,” the other said.  “But we need a male subject.”

No.

“I have everything he has,” Kathryn protested.  

Well, almost.  One Vidian released Chakotay’s restraints while the other pointed his weapon at him.  Chakotay didn’t fight them.  Kathryn struggled against her restraints, kicking, flailing to no avail as they led Chakotay to the door.  Chakotay’s eyes met hers and he mouthed three words.  I love you.

No, no, no.  Not another loss.  She couldn’t stand it.

“Take care of that one,” one of the Vidians nodded before disappearing out the door with Chakotay.

Kathryn was desperate.

“You have suffered,” she said to the remaining Vidian.  “You know what it is like to see those you love suffer.”

The Vidian looked down at her, sympathy in his eyes.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Then please,” she begged.  “He’s a good man who would sacrifice himself for any one of you, even after what you’ve done.  Have mercy on him.”

She wasn’t the begging sort.  But she’d run out of other options.  The Vidian pulled something from his pocket, and pressed it against her neck.

“Please,” she mumbled before slipping out of consciousness again.

Kathryn woke up completely alone.  They’d taken Tursa too.  She worked at her restraints, but they only grew tighter.  She tried to focus, to think of some way out of this, someway she could save them.  The Vidian that had sedated her had shown pity. The Vidians were committing these atrocities out of a desire to survive.  But they weren’t the only ones who cared about survival.

But she had no more chances to convince any of them.  Time went by, and no one came.  Had they killed Tursa yet?  Or Chakotay?  Would a Vidian come in with Chakotay’s face?  Her mind spun with grotesque images, of both of them crying out in pain as the Vidians gutted them.  She smacked the back of her head against the bed.  

Why hadn’t they taken her yet?  She pulled against her restraint again and felt some give.  There was more room in her wrist band.  Maybe she could slide her hand out.  She wiggled her wrist and pulled.  It wasn’t moving through the band, not enough.  She took in a deep breath and yanked as hard as she could, and heard her wrist crack.  Biting back against a scream, she twisted her wrist to an unnatural degree, and it finally slid through.

She grasped at her other wrist, working off the band slowly between grunts of pain.  Both hands were free.  She felt sick and dizzy.  Not yet.  She couldn’t pass out yet.  Blood spilled into her mouth from her bleeding lip.  One thing kept her going.  Her last image of Chakotay as he willingly left for her.  His brown eyes staring at her with such emotion, the movement of his lips forming those words she hadn’t heard in far too long.

She worked at the bar around her chest with her good hand.  The other now flopped uselessly.  She couldn’t unlock the bar.  She looked down at her feet and wiggled one of them against the restraint.  If she could get her feet free she could maybe slide her lower body under the bar.  Just a few more broken bones.  She’d never really cared for her ankles anyway.  Another deep breath.  

With a huge bang, the room tilted to the side.  Only her restraints kept her from falling.  Another bang and the room rattled around her, shaking her until she cried out in pain, clutching her wrist.  It sounded like the ship was under attack.  But by who?  She didn’t dare hope.

The bangs and shaking continued for several more minutes.  She remembered the terrible storms on Nepenthe.  And before that, the storm that had forced them onto that planet.  Now she was alone.

Finally the banging and shaking stopped.  What was going on?  She pulled at her leg restraints in an attempt to free herself.

“I would not advise that move.”

She opened her eyes, her vision blurring, but there was no mistaking the man before her.  Dark skin, long ears, that stoic expression.

“Tuvok?” she asked.

How could he be here?  Had she started to hallucinate?

Tuvok released her other restraints with ease and helped her to sit.  

“Can you walk?”

The room seemed to shift under her feet.  She vomited onto Tuvok’s uniform.  Without missing a beat, Tuvok lifted her up in his arms and carried her out the door.

“Wait,” she mumbled, trying to form the words.

Chakotay.  Where was Chakotay?  Tuvok set her down, leaning her against the wall of . . . where were they on the ship?  Where were they, period?

“One directly to Sickbay,” Tuvok said and she felt the grip of the transporter.

Seconds later, she was back on Voyager.  Sickbay.  

“Captain,” the Doctor said.  “Welcome back.”

What?  He and Kes helped her to a bed before she could fall over.

“She’s in shock,” Kes said.

“Just relax, Captain,” the Doctor said, like a buzzing mosquito in her ear.  He gingerly took her wrist, but she pulled it back.

“Where are the others?” she demanded.

“The away team is working on that,” the Doctor said, waving his instrument close to her.

“Report,” she said, shaking her head.  “I need a report.”

“I need your wrist,” the Doctor insisted.

She let him take her wrist.

“Now, report!”

“Such a pleasure to be yelled at again for doing my job,” the Doctor snarked.  “My, how I have missed this.”

“Captain,” Kes said.  “We received a signal from the Vidians.  That led us to you.”

Another form materialized on the bed beside her.  Tursa.

“Status on the Vidian ship?” Kathryn asked.

The Doctor moved over to Tursa and scanned her.

“Suffice it to say, we hit them with our lasers and they hit us with theirs but our lasers won,” the Doctor replied.

“Do we have the ship in custody?” she asked.

“I don’t know!” the Doctor cried.  “I’m a doctor.  I do doctor things.  Who is this?”

“Tursa,” Kathryn said.  “How is she?”

“Also suffering from shock,” the Doctor said.  “She will be fine.”

Where the hell was Chakotay?  Or Tuvok, for that matter.  What were the details of the away mission?  She was in the dark and she couldn’t stand it.

“Where is Tom?” she asked.  “Or Harry . . .”

She’d take Neelix if he had information for her.

“Tom went on the away team,” Kes offered.

Who was running the ship?  Kathryn hit the comm unit on the wall.

“Janeway to Bridge,” she said.

“Kim here . . . Captain, I can’t tell you how . . .”

“Later,” she said.  “I need details, Harry.  What’s happened since I’ve been gone.”

“A . . . lot, ma’am,” Harry responded.  

A lot.  Wonderful.  A voice came through the Doctor’s communicator.

“Tuvok to Sickbay.”

Kathryn swung around to the Doctor.

“Sickbay here,” the Doctor responded.

“Are you prepared for the stasis pod, Doctor?”

Something within her sank.

“I am,” the Doctor said.  “Go ahead.”

The transporter flashed and a pod with someone inside appeared in Sickbay.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn said.

“It would be best if you didn’t view him yet, Captain,” the Doctor said as he fiddled with some controls on the pod.  

Kathryn shrugged away Kes’s hand of support and walked to the pod, each step filled with trepidation.  She put a shaking hand over her mouth.  What she saw - that wasn’t Chakotay.

“What happened to him?” she asked when she finally found the words.

“The Vidians removed most of his skin,” the Doctor explained.  “As he is very prone to infection, I felt it best that he recuperate in the pod.”

“Why was he not the first beamed up?” Kathryn demanded.

“Apparently, it was his request,” the Doctor said.  “It will take several hours to regrow his skin.  No organs were removed - except for his appendix.  Odd.”

Chakotay had requested this?   Had he been conscious?  The thought horrified her.  She had to force herself back into captain mode.

“Janeway to Tuvok,” she said.  “Where are you?”

“The away team and I have returned to Voyager.”

“I need to meet with you right away.  Meet me in my Ready Room.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Captain,” the Doctor said.  “I would not advise . . .”

“I have a ship to run Doctor,” she said.  “But you know I’ll be back.”

She glanced once more at the pod before stalking out of the room. 

After a shower and a change into her uniform complete with a communicator, Kathryn headed to her ready room.  

“Captain on the bridge,” Tom said as she walked onto the Bridge.

All of the officers stood.  Tom, Harry . . . she hadn’t seen their faces in months.  They all looked happy and relieved to see her.  But she had work to do.

“At ease,” she said, and headed into her ready room.

Tuvok stood near her desk.  At least he wasn’t wanting to congratulate her.

“Report,” she said.

“After leaving you and the commander, we traveled for approximately six weeks and three days before Mr. Kim incited a mutiny.”

“Harry?” Kathryn asked.  “Did what?”

“The crew did not adjust well to leaving you and the commander behind,” he explained.  Well, that was clearly an understatement.  “As Mr. Kim represented the wishes of the majority of the crew, I made the decision to violate your orders, Captain.  The Doctor was able to contact Dr. Denara Pel.”

“You contacted the Vidians?” she asked.

“Yes, Captain,” he said.  “I am prepared to face disciplinary action.”

Her head spun.

“Finish your report,” she said. 

“Pel informed us that the planet has been used by the Vidians to attract - organ donors, and offered a method for getting past the forcefield.  When we returned to the planet, we were unable to locate you, but a distress signal and a coded message allowed us to find the Vidian ship.  I should note that we were aided in the rescue of you, the commander, and the Kazon woman by a Vidian named Mortura.”

“Mortura,” Kathryn reflected.  “That is familiar.”

“Mortura was one of the Vidians who stole Mr. Neelix’s lungs,” Tuvok explained.  

“Where are the Vidians now?” she asked.

“They are in the brig with the exception of Mortura, who is in guarded guest quarters,” he explained.  “We are towing the Vidian vessel.”

“Did Commander Chakotay order you to rescue the Kazon woman and me before himself?” she asked.

“Mortura has more of those details,” Tuvok said.  “When I arrived, Commander Chakotay was already in a stasis pod.”

She took in a breath.  Tuvok waited patiently.  She had thought she’d never see her old friend again.

“Thank you, Tuvok,” she said. 

“May I say, Captain, that I am also satisfied at your return,” Tuvok said.

That was about the gushiest that Tuvok got. 

“Where are Mortura’s quarters?” she asked.

Mortura was waiting for her when she and her security escort arrived.  She recognized him now.  He was also the one she’d appealed to on the Vidian ship.  His appearance had not improved, but she was thankful that he was not wearing Ufur’s face.

“I’ve been told you helped with the rescue,” she said.

“Yes, Captain,” Mortura said.  It was hard to tell with all the skin grafts, but he showed no signs of aggression.  “When you asked me for mercy, I was moved.  You once allowed my comrade and me to leave your vessel.  I wanted to help you in return.  I saw that a distress call had been sent, and piggybacked information to your vessel informing them exactly where to find you.  Unfortunately I was soon ordered to begin my work on your crewman.”

“Commander Chakotay,” she said.

“Yes,” Mortura nodded.  “I held off as long as possible, and started on the skin which I knew could be grafted more easily than replacing an organ.  And then I removed his vestigial organ.  Fortunately, Voyager arrived before I had to go any further.”

She wanted to clench her fists in anger, but kept her calm.

“Was he conscious during this?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” Mortura replied.  “But before I began, I told him I sent the message to Voyager.  He asked to be the last rescued.”

Of course he had.  It was just like him.  

“You knew about this planet trapping people for later use?” she asked.

“Not until recently,” he explained.  “It is only known to those with very high clearance.”

“Your captain took the face of an alien diplomat,” she said.  “And I suppose you still bear Mr. Neelix’s lungs?”

“I do not,” he said.  “Those organs deteriorated six months ago.  I am in the last stages of the Phage.”

“Your people will remove the forcefield from the planet.”

“We did not create a force field, Captain,” Mortura explained.  “The protective layer allowing matter in but not out is a natural part of the planet.  We only found a way around it.”

“I want the Vidians to cease their capture of people from the planet’s surface,” she said.  

“I am not the leader,” Mortura said.  “I cannot order this myself.  In fact, the other Vidians now shun me for my actions.”

“Oh, they will listen to me, mark my words,” Kathryn said, gritting her teeth.  “And you will all pay for your crimes.”

“I have already paid, Captain,” he said.  “My death is imminent.  And now I welcome it.”

She looked at the pathetic shell of a man before her.  But she felt no pity.

Kathryn discussed options for the Vidians with Tuvok, who reminded her of the Prime Directive, but they seemed far beyond that now.  She decided to make no definite decision without her first officer.  She returned to Sickbay and stopped briefly at Chakotay’s pod.  His skin had grown back, but was still too thin.  She could see the bones in his face.  But that was a far cry better than earlier.

The Doctor gave Tursa a clean bill of health, but she huddled in her bed.  Kathryn sat beside her.

“Tursa,” she said.  “We can take you back to your people.  Do you have any relatives?”

“My Maje’s brother,” she said.  “If he still lives.  He is of the Kazon - Ogla.”

“We will contact them,” she said.  “But I wanted to offer you an alternative.  You could choose to stay with Voyager.  Here females are given the same rights as males.”

Tursa looked puzzled.  “With the Kazon, females are superior,” she said.

Kathryn frowned.  “But the Kazon I dealt with refused to speak to me because of my gender.”

“You are not a Kazon woman,” she said.  “The men take titles, and go to war.  When they are gone, the women run things.  When they return, we nod in deference.  But they are rarely home for long.”

“Oh,” Kathryn said, smiling.  “I see.”

Tursa wasn't the first woman to learn how to get around in a male-dominated society.

“Captain,” the Doctor said.  “Commander Chakotay is waking.”

“But he needs more time to heal,” Kathryn said.

“He does,” the Doctor agreed.  “But he can talk to you for a short time.  If you wish.”

She nodded.  The Doctor opened the pod.  

“How do you feel?” she asked.

Chakotay looked up at her and smiled.

“Much better now,” he said.

She settled in beside him.

“Good,” she said.  “Because we have business to discuss.”

Chapter Text

Chapter VII

“So what do you think?” Kathryn asked.

Chakotay walked down the corridor beside her.

“About punishing the Vidians?”

“Yes, Chakotay,” she said with a grimace.  

“I don’t think you’ll like it.”

She sighed, rubbing her forehead.  She hadn’t had good sleep the last few days, just coffee. She was irritable.

“Just tell me,” she said as they entered the turbolift.

“I think it isn’t up to us to patrol the universe,” he said.  “We could disturb what fragile peace we have with the Vidians by attempting to force concessions on them.  There are more of them than there are of us, so we likely couldn’t make them obey our commands and if we did, we wouldn’t be able to continue to enforce it.  Not unless we intend to stay in this sector forever.”
She hated how logical he could be.  Tuvok had already offered her the same opinion.  Kathryn frowned.

“I don’t want what happened to you, to Tursa’s husband and children, to Neelix, to happen to anyone else.  It is grotesque.  Immoral.  Starfleet would not stand for this sort of behavior.”

He looked down for a moment.  Oh, here it came.

“We are not Starfleet,” Chakotay said, raising his eyes.  “We follow the rules, but we are just one ship.  The Starfleet in the Alpha Quadrant has hundreds of thousands of ships.  They can enforce such a policy, but they likely would not because it is a violation of the Prime Directive to get involved.”

He would throw the Prime Directive back at her.

“We already are involved,” she said.  “They attacked my crew unprovoked.  And what they did to you, Chakotay . . .”

Seeing him walk out that door to his death.  Seeing his flayed body in the stasis pod.  Never would she ever forget either of those images.

“Turbolift,  halt,” Chakotay said and turned his body toward her, and put his hand on her shoulder.  “What the Vidians do is wrong, no question, but they are following the instincts of most humanoids to survive.  This disease has ravaged their people.  It’s changed them.  

And Mortura - he could have killed me easily, Kathryn.  He continued to delay the procedure, to pretend the pod wasn’t working or he had the wrong instruments.  If he had conducted a normal procedure on me, it would have gone far faster.  I wouldn’t be alive.  He risked his life, his status, his home for a stranger.  And do you know why?”

Not more Chakotay wisdom.  She wasn’t sure she could handle that today.

“Why, Chakotay?” she asked.

He smiled at her annoyance.

“Because of you,” he said.  “You showed them mercy once and let them leave after they healed Neelix.  And then - according to Mortura . . .”
Oh, no.

“You begged him to show me mercy,” he said.  

“I did no such thing.”

“Alright then.  But he did return your act of mercy.”

“So you think we should just let them go.”

“Mortura has requested asylum until his death, which could happen any day now.  But as for the others - we could always have a Vidian ship meet them on some deserted planet.”

She couldn’t help smiling.

“Turbolift, resume,” she said.

They left the lift and entered the transporter room.  

“Did Tuvok inform you that he did not recommend this course of action?” Chakotay asked.

“Yes, he did,” she said.  “And no, I’m not listening.  Poor Tuvok.  He’s had a difficult time the last few months.”

“I can’t wait to read the reports about the riot started by Harry Kim,” he said, his eyes flashing with merriment.

 “We really should do something nice for Tuvok.”

“Lock up Neelix?”

They stood on the transporter pad.  Seconds later they beamed back to the surface of Nepenthe, at the exact location of their shelter.

“Neelix is planning another party,” Kathryn said.  “I told him to give us at least a week first.  The crew want so much to welcome us back but . . .”
“I’m not ready yet either,” he admitted.

She wasn’t sure when she would be ready.  The sight of the place she’d called home for months almost brought her to tears.  She’d spent most of her time here hoping for Voyager to come for them.  Now that they had, she felt a pull to this place. The storms had been frightening, and the threat of the Vidians even more so, but most of their time here had been comfortable.  Freeing.  No pressure of command.  No constant worries.  She slept better here than she had even before Voyager left on their ill-fated cruise.  For a while, they had lived what most people called a normal life.  He held her hand.

“I will miss this place,” she admitted.

“So will I,” he said.  “But leaving here doesn’t mean we can’t have something like this one day.  Only with more technology.  Your cough could have become something far worse very quickly.  Even my people went to other colonies on Trebus for a medical emergency.”

They walked around their little settlement, revisiting the tiny shelter Chakotay had made a home, the woods, the lake they’d gone skinny dipping in, the river they’d sailed on their great adventure, the sky, the grass, the gentle breeze.  Something dropped from the trees.  She jumped backwards, then smiled.

“Eddie,” Chakotay said.  “It figures he’d stay close.”

Eddie the monkey had gotten inside the shelter and ransacked every cabinet, knocked over her equipment, and most notably, left droppings on Chakotay’s bed.

She kneeled down and the monkey climbed up to her shoulder, chittering excitedly.

“Are we taking him with us?” Chakotay asked, amused.

“I think he belongs here,” Kathryn said.  “Besides, you hate monkeys.”

“I’d put up with a dozen monkeys if you wanted it.”

Eddie crawled onto her back, searching for food.  She had kept little nibbles for him in her pocket, just like she had for Mollie back home.

“Goodbye - Eddie,” she said, reaching back for him.

Chakotay took the monkey from her.

“So long, Eddie,” he said, and tossed the monkey.

“Chakotay!”

“What?  He likes it,” Chakotay said.  “Seriously - Voyager could use a pet.  Maybe we could find something like a dog here in the Delta Quadrant.  I heard the Enterprise had a cat.”

She smiled.
“I thought Neelix was our mascot,” she said with a wink.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

“We should start taking all of this down before they come looking for us,” she said reluctantly.

“Anyone in the crew could do this,” Chakotay offered.

“They wouldn’t know what to throw away and what to save,” she said.  “I’d like to take our tomatoes with us.”

“Think the bathtub will fit?”

“Could probably go in the cargo bay.  The boat too.”

He smiled.

“You never know when we might need it,” he said.  “Let’s get started.”

That night, Kathryn returned to her quarters.  She’d never realized how large they were, or how empty.  This was why she’d subsisted on coffee for the last few days.  But she couldn’t avoid it forever.  So she returned, took a shower, changed into her nightgown - the luxurious pink silk one - and let down her hair.  It felt strange back up in the restrictive bun.  She walked over to her desk and picked up Mark’s picture, looking at his face one last time before storing the picture away. 

Tursa would travel with them until they came in contact with a Kazon ship.  Kathryn wasn’t looking forward to that.  Voyager found many other aliens on Nepenthe’s surface.  Most of them liked living where they were even when offered safe passage.  So Kathryn left them with weapons to defend themselves, a definite violation of Starfleet ethics.  But if she couldn’t protect them, she wanted them to be able to protect themselves.

They also put out a buoy to warn others of Nepenthe’s nature, and deposited the captured Vidians on the planet’s isolated plains, far away from any technology.  They’d be rescued soon enough, but they’d have a taste of their own medicine for a while.  They left the Vidian ship in orbit around Nepenthe - after they gutted it completely for parts.

Mortura had passed peacefully in Sickbay less than an hour ago.  She thanked him for his mercy, and he thanked her for hers.  Her emotions were still conflicted, but she owed him at least that much.  Now she was alone again in her quarters.  Chakotay hadn’t pressured her, but she knew she had to face him.  What happened on Nepenthe could not happen here.  She had to keep her life in clear, separate compartments in order to function properly.  Chakotay was her first officer.  He was her friend.  It was hard enough to order around a friend.

Could she order a lover to his death?

She’d debated the matter in her head since they’d returned to the ship.  It had seemed simple enough, until she returned to these quarters.  Chakotay was always nearby on Nepenthe.  They ate close together, worked close together, and slept in the same small shelter.  They bid each other good night, and went to separate sleeping quarters, but she could see him if she looked across the shelter.

He was still close, but somehow just being in the next quarters felt like he was a continent away from her.  Her mind, her entire body had become accustomed to his presence.  And she didn’t want to go back to the loneliness she felt even on a ship full of people.  But she had to let him go.  Her duty was to Voyager before all else.  She owed it to the crew.  There was no sense in putting it off any longer.

The chime to her quarters rang.  Who could be here this late?

“Come in,” she said.

Chakotay stepped inside, still in his pajamas, a loose t-shirt and pants.  He could be attractive in a grass skirt, damn him.  He stood where he was, looking at her across the room, as if he’d forgotten why he had come.  She should tell him now.  There could be no more to them.  Their first kisses would be their last.  And then she should escort him to the door.  Promise to still be friends even though she’d just hurt him.  Hurt herself.

But she didn’t move.  How close she’d come to losing him.  How much she’d already sacrificed. He took a few hesitant steps forward, and so did she.  And then she rushed into his arms, pulling down his face to kiss him.  He responded passionately, deepening the kiss, both his hands in her hair. 

“Kathryn,” he breathed as he pulled away slightly.  “I didn’t know if . . .”

She kissed him again, pushing up on his shirt, eager to feel his skin beneath her hands.  He helped her take his shirt off and she looked at his bronze chest for one glorious moment before running her hands over the grooves in his muscles, and scattering little kisses down his chest.  He groaned, lifting up her face and kissing her with a force she felt through her entire body.

As they kissed, his hands cascaded down the back of her gown, gripped her hips, and pulled her flush against him.  She let her hands dip just inside the waistband of his pants.

“Are you sure?” he asked, panting.

“Yes.”

As soon as she said the word, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her across her living room and into the bedroom as if she weighed nothing.  He laid her down on her bed, leaning over her, pushing the hem of her gown up over her knees, her thighs, her stomach, until it was all the way off.

“Gods, Kathryn,” he breathed, staring at her body.  

But she was impatient.   She needed to feel all of him at once, and pulled at his pants.  Soon they were skin to skin and she gasped with pleasure at the simple feel of his body against hers.

Her body was parched.  He poured himself onto her, and she soaked every bit of him in, but still wanted more.  She pushed him over onto his back, rocking against him, greedily savoring his moans and watching the ecstasy on his face as they both spilled over onto each other and she collapsed onto his chest.

This was going to be more difficult than she’d thought.