LOH HA
By KJaneway115
A/N: The native words and names used in this story are derived from ancient Mayan dialects and come from a variety of online sources. I am not a scholar of native languages, and my use of the words in this story is not intended as an accurate portrayal of any particular real language. Chac is an ancient Mayan name for a god of storms.
Many thanks, as always, to Mizvoy for the editing.
Thank you so much for reading; I greatly appreciate feedback, so please review!
Part One
Loh ha
Loh ha. Literally, it means "redeeming water." Generations ago, when my ancestors left Earth and sought to preserve their way of life on another planet, they gave this name to a lake on Trebus. When I imagine the way the lake must have looked two hundred years ago, when they arrived, it is not hard to understand why they gave it this name. Even today, when the planet has been ravaged by war and conflict, Loh ha is one of the purest, most untouched sites on our world.
Its clear blue water stretches for many kilometers, then trickles down into rivers that supply clean water to dozens of villages. At its deepest point, the lake descends over twenty meters, and it provides a home for hundreds of species of marine and plant life. The northern edge of the lake is capped by a desert mountain range. The water sloshes onto rocks as they ascend into great peaks which seem to touch the sky. On its south end, the lake borders a lush forest, full of tall, ancient trees. Much of this forest was destroyed during the conflict with the Cardassians, but I am astonished, now, to see how much of it has begun already to regrow.
It has been nearly ten years since I last set foot on Trebus, much longer since I immersed myself in the healing waters of Loh ha, but now I stand at the water's edge, feeling its cool liquid lap against my bare toes, and already I feel the energy of the place healing me, giving me new life. I hear my sister's children laughing and playing near the cabin, and I feel a smile begin deep in my belly and slowly work its way up through my chest, through my arms, through my fingers, and finally into every muscle of my face. I feel a lump in my throat, and I realize that it signifies the presence of tears - tears I have not cried since... I cannot remember the last time I cried. I swallow, hard, and push them down. I don't wish to cry right now. But it is good to know that maybe, I still can.
The first time I was here, I was younger than my sister's children are now. I was with my tata and my na, my brother Yochi and my two sisters, Emetaly and Sekaya. My grandfather, my taatich, was with us then, too. They are all gone now, all except Sekaya. Yochi was the oldest, then Emetaly, then me, and Sekaya was the baby of the family. The village where we lived is not far from Loh ha, and our parents built a cabin here when Yochi was a baby. In the extreme heat of Treban summers, we escaped to the cabin whenever we could, often walking the eight kilometers from the village just to spend a couple of days near the lake.
My childhood memories of the lake are filled with joy. I ran through the woods with my brothers, sisters and cousins. We pretended that we were navigating the jungle on a distant planet or fighting alien races. We imagined we were our ancestors, building monumental temples and a vast empire. We spent many days playing sports in the fields, boys against girls, cousins against cousins, older against younger. We played and ran until we were sticky with sweat, and then we stripped down to our underwear and jumped into the cool water of Loh ha, cleansing ourselves from our play. On the hottest days of the year, we spent almost the entire day in the lake. Our parents had to drag us away from the shore and force us to sit on the grass for long enough to eat our lunches and digest our food before we returned to the water. That was before the Cardassians, before the Maquis.
When the Cardassians came, everything changed. I was long gone by then; I ran away and joined Starfleet when I was only sixteen. In the twenty years between the time I graduated from the Academy and the day I resigned my commission, I visited Trebus exactly four times. My relationship with my father had become increasingly difficult, and although I loved my mother and siblings, I allowed the bad blood between my father and myself to keep me away. My sisters and brother came to visit me when I had shore leave, and I brought my mother to Earth a few times to see me, but my relationship with my family was weak in those years. The last time I saw my mother was in 2366. Twelve years ago. I had no idea that only weeks later, she would be gone forever.
By some miracle, Sekaya was spared. She was not in our village that day but was visiting her boyfriend in another town. But my mother, Yochi and Emetaly were killed. All in one day. My father was off fighting with the Maquis already, trying to protect his family, his cotoch - homeland. I did nothing. My father's death two years later finally prompted me to resign from Starfleet, to become an outlaw and join the Maquis myself. When I made that decision, I returned to Trebus to witness firsthand the devastation the Cardassians had perpetrated. I stood then, as I do today, at the edge of the waters of Loh ha, but I received no redemption. I felt only anger and hatred, feelings that stayed with me for a long time. Ten years later, I return a different man.
Little Xaman, Sekaya's oldest, runs up to me, already wearing his swim trunks. "Oeyum, will you watch us while we go in the lake?" he asks, already in the water up to his knees.
"Sure," I reply, my smile returning as I watch the boy eagerly embrace the lake, just as I had done when I was his age. The children banish the ghosts of the past from my mind, at least temporarily. Xaman's little sister, Eme, is trailing behind him, her four-year-old legs unable to keep up with her older brother. She stands at the edge of the sandy beach near the water, eagerly pulling down her pants. Before I know it, she is in the water, too, completely naked.
While Xaman asks me to watch him do tricks in the lake, I feel a warm, familiar hand on my shoulder. "How does it feel to be back?"
My little sister is not so little anymore. She is beautiful; her long, straight black hair flows down her back, and her jean shorts and white t-shirt flatter her lithe figure. I put my arm around her and pull her against me. "It feels good, iits'in," I call her by an old pet name that means 'little sister.' "And strange. Like there's a part of myself I've forgotten was there."
She nods. "That makes sense. You've been away from this place for a long time - away from the redemption of the waters, away from the love of your family."
"What's left of it," I whisper.
Sekaya's arm tightens around my waist. "Our family is growing again, Chakotay. Xaman and Eme are only the beginning. We cannot dwell in the past."
"I know." I try to shrug off the strange feeling of nostalgia that has overcome me. "Being here makes me remember a lot of things I haven't thought about in a long time." I pause. Xaman and Eme are digging a trench in the dirt, making a little river that leads away from the lake. The sound of their laughter is a balm to my soul, like my sister's arm around me and her thin body pressed against my side. "I'm not angry anymore," I say softly.
Sekaya actually laughs. "Chakotay, you are the storm. Tata and Na named you well. You cannot escape your nature. The storm will always be a part of you." She pauses. "But I am glad you don't feel angry."
"I feel a lot of other things," I say, only realizing it is true as the words come out of my mouth. "I feel sad. I feel tired. I feel..." I stop. I don't know how to finish the sentence.
Suddenly, Eme is crying. Sekaya disengages from my side and goes to her daughter. "What's wrong, chaanpal?"
"Xaman took my shovel!" the little girl wails.
I motion for the seven-year-old to come to me while Sekaya comforts his sister. "Xaman, did you take your sister's shovel?"
"I just wanted to borrow it."
"When you want to borrow something from someone, you need to ask them first."
"I did ask."
"And did Eme give you permission to use her shovel?"
"No."
"Then you shouldn't have taken it."
"I only needed it for a second!"
I take my nephew by the shoulder and steer him away from the beach where his mother is still drying his sister's tears. "Xaman, do you want to see a special place?"
He looks up at me, his eyes wide with wonder and excitement. "What kind of place?"
"Come on. I'll show you. Put on your shoes." I wink at my sister and she smiles back, remaining behind to help Eme build her canal in the sand. I take Xaman to the edge of the clearing where our family cabin lies. "I know it's here somewhere," I murmur as I look for a path that was once familiar.
"What are you looking for, Oeyum?"
Finally, I find it. The path is pretty well overgrown, but I still recognize it. I pull aside weeds and branches as I lead my nephew through the woods. After a few minutes, I stop. "There it is," I say, pointing straight ahead. In the center of a small clearing sits a huge rock. It is almost three times as tall as Xaman and has a diameter of about two meters.
"Woah!" my nephew exclaims.
"Want to climb it?" I ask. He nods eagerly, and I lead him around to the other side of the rock. I set my large foot into the grooves that had been made by us as children. I climbed this rock with my brother and sisters hundreds of times. It had been our secret place. I look back, prepared to offer my nephew a hand, but he's doing just fine on his own, climbing behind me. It only takes me a few steps to reach the top; somehow the rock seems much shorter than it did forty years ago. We stand on the pinnacle, next to each other, Xaman and I. I see in him so many echoes of myself as a boy. "Your mother, Emetaly and Yochi and I used to come here - sometimes for picnics, sometimes just to talk. This was our secret place. We used to escape up here whenever the cabin got too crowded, or..."
"Or you needed to get away from your family?" Xaman asks.
I sit down on the rock's mossy surface, and my nephew does the same. "Xaman, I know it's easy to get frustrated with your family, and sometimes, it is good to be alone. That's why I brought you here, so you have someplace to go if you ever need to be alone, to think. But spending time with your family is important, too. You only get one family." I pause. "I know it's hard to understand when you're a kid."
Xaman shakes his head. "No, I understand. Before this week, I never even knew what it was like to have an uncle. Now I do. But you're my only uncle; I'll never have another one."
I feel that lump in my throat again, and I pull my nephew to me in a fierce hug. I know if I cry now, I'll only embarrass him, so I force the emotions away and just hug him, reveling in the feel of his small body in my arms.
After dinner, Sekaya's husband puts the kids to bed and leaves her and me alone, on purpose I'm sure. We sit by a fire we've made down by the lake, drinking Antarian cider. The taste of the cider awakens other memories in me - memories that I push to the back of my mind.
"So, tell me what happened with that girl," my little sister demands.
It takes me a moment before I realize who she's talking about. "Not much."
"It didn't sound like 'not much' when I spoke to you right after Voyager returned."
The sound that comes out of my body is something between a chortle and a groan. "Well, I was wrong then. About a lot of things."
My sister moves closer to me on the log where we're sitting and takes my hand in hers. "Tell me about it."
It has been so long since I have been able to have a truly open, honest conversation with anybody, let alone my dearest sister, that I don't know where to begin. Have I forgotten how to open up after all these years of reining in my feelings, controlling my emotions, focusing on what needed to be done? I take a deep breath and feel how good it is to have my sister's hand in mine, to feel the support and love radiating from her. I had friends on Voyager, sure. B'Elanna and I were always close. And Kathryn. But it wasn't the same out there - nothing was. Duty was first. The ship was first. Our mission was first. Protocol was first. It had to be that way. Kathryn and I agreed on that from the very beginning, and my conviction that was the right choice for all of us never wavered. Hell, it got us home in only seven years, didn't it? Only now, as I am slowly welcomed back into my own family, do I begin to see what we truly lost out there. What I truly lost. I became disconnected from myself, and as I realize this, I understand where to begin. Honesty. Haahil. Truth.
"I thought I knew what I was doing," I say, and then I pause, collecting my thoughts, going back to the beginning. "It's funny, I couldn't stand Seven when we first brought her on board. I told the captain to throw her out an airlock. But I guess Seven didn't feel the same way about me."
"How could she?" my sister teases. "My suku'un is handsome, smart, talented... What woman could resist?"
I roll my eyes at my sister's teasing, then continue. "The way she looked at me, trusted me, admired me - it was very seductive. The fact that I was the one person she wanted to trust with her heart - a heart that was so fragile and naive - made her almost irresistible. And she was honest. She is honest, totally, and that was refreshing to me. I had stopped believing I would ever have a relationship with anybody, at least not as long as we were out there, and then there was Seven, shyly asking me if I would 'do the honor of accompanying her on a date.' I couldn't say no. I didn't want to."
"You had been alone for a long time. Everyone needs companionship, Chakotay."
"Yes. But we need the right kind of companionship." I pause. This is difficult for me to say, but I am forcing myself to be brutally honest for the first time in a long time, and although it is hard, it also feels right. Haahil. "I thought that Seven could offer me the kind of companionship I wanted - want - and have wanted for a long time. But the truth is, she's not mature enough. She's like a teenager. What happened between us was not her fault. If anything, it was mine. I should have been the older, wiser, more mature one. I should have realized what I was doing, and that, no matter how much she acted like it, there was no way she could be ready for the kind of commitment and depth that I wanted." I have been staring into the fire as I have been talking, but now I turn to my sister, to look into her eyes. "I was stupid. I should have known better."
"Maybe," Sekaya replies. "But you didn't, and you can't erase what happened. Do you remember the old saying? 'Do not rail at the storm, but adjust yourself to whatever comes.' This has happened, Chakotay. Now the real question is whether you can learn from it, and what you will learn."
"When did you get so wise?"
She chuckles against me as I pull her into a hug. "I've had a little bit of time to grow up since you've been gone."
I release her from the hug. "Yes, I know." I tell her how I took Xaman to our rock, and how proud I was when he understood what I was trying to tell him about the importance of family. We talk long into the night, but I am not tired, even though I have not slept since I was on the transport ship almost twenty hours earlier.
Sekaya is seven years my junior, and I ran off to the Academy when she was only nine, but of all my siblings, she was the best about staying in touch while I was away. We talked over subspace every week. I loved her more than anything, and much as I was overwhelmed with grief when Yochi and Emetaly were killed, I thanked the spirits that they had spared Sekaya. She tells me about Muluc, her husband. He was the boyfriend she was visiting in a neighboring town on that fateful day when our mother and siblings were killed. For the first time, we talk about that day. She tells me what it was like. She tells me how Muluc comforted her, how his family took her in and cared for her when she was drowning in grief.
I talk about Voyager, about the Delta Quadrant. I talk about the Hirogen and the Vaadwuar. I talk about Species 8472 and our alliance with the Borg. I tell her about the time I roamed the ship as a disembodied spirit and about how our "crazy gene" saved the ship in chaotic space. I tell her about Tom and B'Elanna, how they found each other and started a family. I tell her about quirky Neelix and darling Kes, and innocent Harry Kim. I tell her about Naomi Wildman, and Icheb, about our acerbic but well-meaning doctor. I tell her about Tuvok, a man I once viewed as a traitor, but who I now consider a friend. I have written to my sister periodically since Voyager established contact with Starfleet, but we have been unable to speak in person, and letters are no substitute for a real, in-depth, in-person conversation. We add wood to the fire and open another bottle of cider. I have no idea what time it is, but I think it must be two or three in the morning. I feel a pleasant warmth in my gut, and I know my tongue has been loosened by the alcohol. But there's still one subject I avoid.
Sekaya is the one to bring it up as the fire roars in front of us, and I am mesmerized by the dancing flames - red, orange, gold. The night air is chilly, but I am warm, from the cider, the fire or both, and Sekaya says, "You've talked about every member of Voyager's crew except one, suku'un."
"Have I?" I feign innocence.
Sekaya gives me a look, and in it, I see such an echo of our mother, I am taken aback for a moment. "You know exactly who I'm talking about." She stands from the log where we are sitting and goes to the table to fetch the bottle of cider so she can refill our glasses. She sits back down on the log, facing me, one leg curled up underneath herself, her eyes, dark like mine, glittering in the firelight. Her voice is gentle when she says, "Tell me about her."
Again, I'm not sure where to start. Honesty, I remind myself. Haahil. What is the old saying? The truth will set you free? I wonder if that's true, in my case. I begin, "She's a force of nature. Unstoppable, determined, uncompromising. Persistent. She swore she would get our crew home and she did."
"In your letters, it seemed like... I could tell she was more than just your captain."
"We became friends, out of necessity, I think. She had no one else to turn to. Tuvok, maybe, but he's not exactly the guy you go to for emotional support. And I didn't have anyone else to turn to either. We were the command team, and that meant, to some extent, we had to remain apart from the crew. So, yes, we were friends."
"Not more than friends?"
"No," I answer, too quickly.
"Did you want to be more?"
I shake my head slowly. "Sekaya, Seven's not the only stupid mistake I've made where woman are concerned. I never told you about Seska, a woman I was seeing while I was in the Maquis. I won't go into the details now, but suffice it to say, that experience convinced me that being in a relationship with someone on my crew would be a disaster."
"You can't tell me you never thought about it. Your tone when you wrote about her, the way you speak her name, it is like you are saying yaakuntik."
I turn my eyes back to the fire and feel a blush of embarrassment rising in my cheeks. The word my sister has just said is a word in our language that means "beloved," or "soul mate." It's a word I had almost forgotten. "I care for Kathryn," I admit. "I care for her deeply. I once swore to her that I would stand by her side and do whatever I could to make her burdens lighter. And I've done that. For seven years, that was the primary purpose of my life. Sometimes it meant disagreeing with her, doing things she didn't approve of, even fighting with her. But the truth is, I did it because I cared. Kathryn and I have a deep connection, but we've never been more than friends, and I don't believe we ever will be. We lived for too long in a command structure. We gave up too much of ourselves. We sacrificed everything so that our crew could have their lives, so that they could get home. I'm not sure I know her anymore; I don't know if I ever did. But more than that, I don't know if I know myself."
"You are afraid of what giving yourself to her would do to you."
"Don't tell me what I feel," I bite back, lashing out in sudden anger.
My sister doesn't back down. "Is that why you ran away to Trebus instead of staying on Earth after the debriefings were done? You didn't want to face Kathryn after what happened with Seven?"
"I didn't run away. I had to see you, to be with my family. I lost so much time with you." My body is shaking as all my pent up emotion rises to the surface. "I lost years with tata and na, with Emetaly and Yochi, and with you, but I didn't realize it until it was too late." I feel the lump rising in my throat again, and this time, I don't push it away. I let the tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks.
Sekaya puts a comforting arm around my shoulders and slides closer to me. "Don't mistake me, Chakotay. I am happy you are here. I want Xaman and Eme to know their oeyum. You say that you don't know yourself, and that you have come here to find what you have lost. It's true, part of you is here, on Trebus, at Loh ha. These waters will cleanse you. They will renew your spirit. But you must know that not all of the answers you seek are here. Part of you is on Trebus, but part of you has never been here. Even when we were children, your heart was in the stars. That's where you belong. Maybe Kathryn is part of that."
I hold onto my sister and let myself cry for a little while. I've heard her words, but I don't know how to respond, so I say nothing, and we remain together in silence. A little while later, the dying embers of the fire glimmer before us, and Sekaya goes into the cabin to bed. The cabin is small and only has two bedrooms, so I am sleeping outdoors in a tent while Sekaya and Muluc sleep in one room and the kids share the other. I stay outdoors by the fire, staring at its orange glow until it dies completely.
A faint glimmer of sunlight appears on the horizon, and I realize that I have stayed up the whole night. I stand at the edge of the waters of Loh ha and think about the words my sister and I have exchanged. I let myself feel the full spectrum of emotions that is coursing through me - sadness, regret, embarrassment, anger, joy, gratitude, confusion, love. I feel it all. I close my eyes and stretch my arms out to my sides, willing the universe to imbue me with strength, to fill me with new spirit. I take a deep breath; the air smells sweet and fresh. Then I open my eyes and look out at the lake. It is perfectly still, like glass.
I stand on the beach and remove my shoes, shirt, pants and underwear. Fully nude, I walk into the water, feeling it surround and envelop me, letting it take me in. It is cold, but I enjoy the sensation, and my alcohol-induced sluggishness disappears. I let the feelings course through me as I fully immerse my body in Loh ha. Finally, I plunge my head under the water and allow the lake to cover me. It feels like a baptism.
I swim out into the bay in long, powerful strokes, and realize that I have gotten quite far from the beach before I turn around. I feel my extremities begin to turn cold, but my body is invigorated by the sensation, and I swim easily back to shore. Loh ha. Redeeming water. When I emerge, I feel renewed. I am not sure I will ever feel redeemed, but it's a start. I dry myself with a towel and crawl into my tent, covering myself with blankets so I don't catch a chill, and then, finally, I sleep.
That day, I sleep till after noon, and Sekaya lets me. She keeps the kids away from my tent, knowing how much I need the rest. When I wake up, I find that Muluc's mother, my sister's ixhaan, has made blueberry pancakes and saved some for me. She immediately insists that I call her ixhaan, mother-in-law, and treats me like one of the family. I'm a little taken aback by this; it's been so long since I've been around my own people, I've almost forgotten my own culture.
I spend the next two weeks getting to know my sister's family. After only a couple days, Eme, who was shy around me at first, is curling up next to me and asking for a bedtime story. Xaman and I go back to the rock for a picnic, and he tells me all about the small school he attends and the sports he likes to play. I find that Muluc and I have a lot in common. We sit around the lake at night, drinking beer and exchanging war stories, for he, too, was a member of the Maquis. I realize that I've never really talked about the war. We were swept out of the middle of it, and seven years of non-stop action didn't give us any time to think about what had transpired. We grieved when we learned that the Maquis had been slaughtered by the Jem'Hadar, but we were so far away. I never had a chance to process what happened to me, to my friends and family, to a cause that helped determine the course of my life. It feels good to talk about it with someone else who was there. It feels good to talk, period.
Sekaya and her family don't stay at the lake all the time. Muluc runs a small business in town, and he has to go to work some days. It is the middle of the Treban summer, so the kids are out of school, but some nights, they spend in the village. I remain at Loh ha. I chop enough wood to fill the wood shed. I go for long swims and run several miles a day. For the first time in a long time, I feel inspired to paint. I buy some sand painting supplies in town and spend hours sitting near the lake, creating patterns, pictures, painting my emotions with colors and shapes. From the subspace communications network in town, I take time to reconnect with B'Elanna. We have a long conversation, and it feels good to talk to her. We haven't spoken like that in a long time.
Muluc and I decide to build an addition to the cabin - another bedroom, so that I won't have to sleep in the tent. We work on it together when he's not at his shop, and I work alone when he's busy. We get the foundation poured the first weekend, and after ten days, we have the basic structure up.
Midway through my second week on Trebus, something happens. I'm up on the roof of the new room, pounding in a wooden slat when Xaman comes barreling down the hill. "Oeyum!" he shouts. "You got a message, Oeyum!"
Xaman stops just below me and looks up. I pause my work to wipe the sweat out of my eyes as Eme trails after her brother chanting, "A message! A message!"
My sister is close behind the children, and she looks up at me, squinting into the sunlight. "Getting a subspace message is a pretty big event around here," she explains.
"Is it from B'Elanna?" I climb down from the roof so I can stand face to face with her.
She shakes her head, her eyes sparkling. "Your message is from a certain Starfleet captain."
"A cap..." I start to ask her what Starfleet captain could possibly want to get ahold of me on Trebus, but then I realize why her eyes are glowing.
"A captain?" Xaman asks, excitement in his tone. "Do you think they want you to go on a special mission, Oeyum?"
"I think it's just a call from one of your uncle's old friends, Xaman," Sekaya replies, trying to calm her son's excitement. I think she's right, but I have no idea why Kathryn would be calling me. Sekaya sends the children into the cabin to wash up for dinner and gives me a meaningful glance. "You are going to return her call, aren't you?"
"Of course. I'll do it tomorrow."
Sekaya pats me on the shoulder. "Good." She pauses and gives me another look. "She's welcome to come here, you know."
"Here? Why would Kathryn want to come here?"
"Why wouldn't she? I just wanted to tell you she's welcome, in case you decide to invite her, or anything." My sister winks at me, and I watch her turn her back and follow her children into the house.
As I climb back up onto the roof to get a little more work done before dinner, I feel a sense of trepidation in my gut. It's been over a month since I've spoken to Kathryn. We parted on amicable terms, as friends, but the truth that I revealed to Sekaya on my first night here still stands. I'm not sure I really know her. It's been many years since we experienced each other outside of Voyager and a command structure. Do I even know who Kathryn is? Was our friendship a friendship of necessity, as I told my sister on our first night here? Or is our connection deeper than that? At the very least, I know I want to find out. I am getting into the habit of being honest with myself, after all.
The next day, after tossing and turning in my tent all night, I go down to the subspace communications station. Kathryn's message is brief. She wants to know how I am and asks me to return her call. That's it. She looks more relaxed and happy than I've seen her in a long time. She's let her hair grow, and it almost reaches her shoulders. Her demeanor reminds me of the woman I met on Quarra and the Kathryn I knew on New Earth. As I reach to return the call, I feel an uneasiness form in the pit of my stomach, and I realize that I am nervous. Don't be ridiculous, I tell myself. This is your friend. Probably your best friend. You saw her every day for seven years in every conceivable situation. What's a little subspace communique? I don't answer my own question. Instead, I dial the code Kathryn gave me in her message. It's not a Starfleet code, and I wonder if she's bought a house or an apartment somewhere.
It doesn't take her long to answer the call, but when she does, I'm shocked at the picture that greets me. Kathryn Janeway, her hair pulled up and away from her face in a clip, is brushing a loose auburn strand out of her eye. Her hands are covered in a white substance that I quickly recognize as flour - flour which she smears across her forehead as she tries to control her hair - and she is wearing a light blue apron. "Chakotay!" she exclaims, a huge smile appearing on her face when she sees me.
Her smiles have always be infectious to me, and I feel my own face spread into a broad grin. "Kathryn." Then, because I can't help it, "Are you... cooking?"
She rolls her eyes and leans into the screen, whispering conspiratorially, "I'm helping my mother bake bread, but the truth is, I think she'd rather have me out of the kitchen."
I laugh. "The bread might turn out better that way."
"Probably." She wipes her hands on her apron and pulls it off, revealing a pastel green v-neck sweater. "How are you, Chakotay?"
"I'm fine. Good, actually. I've been spending time with Sekaya and getting to know her family."
Kathryn looks at me as if she's trying to see through me. Maybe she is. Maybe she already does. She speaks as if she is admonishing me. "Chakotay, I've talked to Seven."
I feel my whole body tense. "Oh. How is she?"
"She's doing fine. She told me what happened between the two of you. She told me she broke it off."
"That's true."
She scrutinizes me across subspace. "Are you sure you're okay?"
I look back at her, confused by her concern. "You mean, because Seven of Nine broke up with me?"
She lowers her eyes, and an emotion - I can't tell what - flickers across her face, but it is gone before I can identify it. "Yes. I know it must have been difficult for you. I know how much you... cared for her."
Now I am genuinely puzzled. What does Kathryn know about my relationship with Seven? What did Seven tell her that made her think I would be devastated by the break up, so much so that Kathryn is calling me across thousands of light years to make sure I'm all right? "It was just a few dates, Kathryn," I say, trying to make light of the situation. "More than anything, it's been hard to admit to myself what an idiot I was being."
"Oh." Now it is her turn to appear confused, and I suddenly feel that she's hiding something from me, but this is not the time or the place to press her.
Instead I change the subject. "How have you been, Kathryn? Are you enjoying your leave?" Starfleet has given us all a mandatory three month leave, and I imagine that for a woman like Kathryn Janeway, so much enforced R&R is a challenge.
"I enjoyed it for about four days, Chakotay." She leans into the screen, lowering her voice again. "The twenty days since then, I've been slowly going crazy. There are only so many times I can let my mother show me how to bake something. I need to get out of here."
"Why don't you come here?" The words are out of my mouth before I realize I've said them, and I'm about to backpedal when I see the expression on her face. She's tempted by the offer, so I decide not to withdraw it.
"Really?" Her voice is full of hope. "I wouldn't want to impose on you and your family."
"It would be no imposition." I pause. "You might have to sleep in a tent, though. It's awfully close to camping, I'm not sure you'd like it."
"I think I could probably handle 'roughing it' for a few days." Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. "Is there a bathtub?"
"You'd have the lake."
For a second, her eyes get a little misty, and I almost think she might be remembering the same moment that I am, but then the second passes, and I wonder if I imagined it. "I think if I stay in Indiana for any longer with nothing to do, I might go insane. A change of scenery is just what I need."
"Great!" I say, surprised that I really do seem to think it's great.
"I think I have enough pull to commandeer passage on a Federation starship," she says with a wink. "What do you think?"
"I don't know," I tease her. "You're only the most decorated Starfleet captain still living."
She makes a face. She doesn't like to be reminded of the many awards and decorations she received upon our return from the Delta Quadrant, and I don't blame her. I would feel the same way in her position. But that doesn't mean I can't tease her about it. We finish our conversation quickly, and she assures me she will transmit the details of her arrival as soon as she knows them. As I leave the communications station, I find that the nervousness that resided in my gut when I arrived has been replaced by anticipation.