Authors Notes: Tis I once more riding forth in an ill-fated attempt to do something between the time I spend eating jammy dodger biscuits and playing far more Skyrim than is really necessary.
I know it's been a while and I had every intention of uploading a lot more fics that are still gathering dust in my files, but a lot of them need rewriting and reworking and requires more time than previously estimated. A lot of them are ST:Voy but some are BSG and I'm not sure if anyone's interested in reading most of them but they definitely need some time rise like a good sponge cake. Most of my spare time is spent being, quite frankly, very unwell and there can be large gaps of time where I'm unable to accomplish anything resembling sense, when I do have good days I spend a lot of time with my significant other, my cat and my videogames, in between my hobby of editing videos, so I'm sorry I don't have more to read and there seems to be a long waiting period for new fiction, but I promise you I will keep at it.
Again I'm bringing you lovely people a Chakotay POV fic, A/U based around The Bride Of Chaotica, one of my favourite episodes. Includes references to "Thirty Days" and "Scorpion" As usual the style is from the POV of Chakotay's thoughts and therefore it can be a winding path of messy overgrown shrubbery that makes it difficult to follow, for that I apologise and also for my complete lack of writing skills that are surviving on will power and tenacity alone at this point. I know my grammar, structure and formatting are completely awful and just know that I'm incredibly grateful to all and any who venture through one of my confusing fics. I know something the language and characterisations are a bit "out of character" but that was my intent, if you've seen the newest universe of Star Trek's series, it's more of where I imagine my Voyager residing. Plus, I'm a Brit so, expect fruitful language that makes little sense and a sarcastic undertone that I cannot help. Rated M for language, really colourful language, adult references and terrible plot writing.
I loved Bride of Chaotica for many reasons but was always disappointed with the lack of Chakotay's involvement, I've said previously that I always felt the character was underused and when he did feature it was often cliched and that was frustrating, he was always such a dry and darkly humoured character and I wish he had been given the chance to be something other than brooding or in the background. There are moments in the episode where you can see him cracking up, especially during the scene when Janeway agrees to be Arachnia and this sprung from that, well… that and a heavy night of drinking I once participated in many years ago that led to me being completely teetotal for the last 10 years.
Thank you to any who makes it through and I welcome reviews which I will reply to as and when time presents itself. I am truly grateful for all the support and feedback I've received so far and I hope you enjoy reading another nightmare of confusing twists.
Peace My Dearies.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.
Of Tangled Webs and Spider Parlours
Move.
Move faster.
One foot in front of the other.
Quickly now.
There is little to ever be excited about on Voyager that doesn't negate a quickly impending death. We have bounced across the universe from one drama to the next, I'm still surprised we're in one piece if I'm being honest, to have something other than doom in the air is so refreshing. And deserved.
It's been some of the roughest months we have ever faced lately and despite the fact there was a slight hint of doom in the air, only barely detectable, the latest situation had resolved itself relatively quickly and had been gloriously ridiculous. A welcome break from the usual drama the Delta Quadrant throws at us regularly and without reasonable cause. I swear the universe hates us.
I've never known so yo-yoing highs and lows like we have on Voyager. One moment you're begging for your life, the next you're begging for anything to make the boredom end and the in-between is a place of polite decorum and duty. It's not quite the life I imagined but it's better than the alternative. At least I hope it is, because if this is all for nothing, if we've battled the odds and we never get to return home, I'm likely to haunt the shit out of Starfleet HQ for leaving us stranded in a sea of stars under the rule and thumb of a Federation I'm still unsure I can honour.
Choosing to join the crew and the Starfleet role once more is something that is still a grey area for me. Something that still balances on an ever-shifting base of protocol that I don't fully support or believe in and a cause I left behind in exchange for mercy. Redemption. But the redemption isn't what I expected, however more hopeful than the cell sentence that would await me otherwise, but still a cell of sorts. A cage that the flying bird will never escape.
Come on feet.
Faster now.
Not much further.
We can't be late.
If I had a ration for every time we've smashed up against protocol and morals in this damned journey, I'd be the King of the ship, I could even replicate myself a crown and sceptre to prove it with all my overflowing profits on the back of our doom and gloom. It's ridiculous really.
Not as ridiculous as today though, which happens to take the biscuit in its absurdity. It was a whole new level of insanity that few would believe, if it's odd and freaky then chances are, it will happen to us. We're a lightning rod for the all the crazy the Delta Quadrant has to offer and that in itself can be exhausting as it seems some days to be a never-ending stream and then it all goes drastically quiet and boring and you miss the extreme side of things while you're sat on your ass for 12 hours a day assigning mundane tasks to already bored crew. At least with our latest drama that came within inches of being something other than amusing, it was a change of the usual wham bam of weapons fire, ship-shaking politics and soul-destroying decisions.
Finding ourselves trapped in the wrong sub-space layer at the wrong time isn't something that most people come up against, but for us on Voyager, it's par for the course and I'd be frankly disappointed if it turned out to be something less interesting and bizarre.
As usual though I had been stuck on the Bridge while the real interesting shit went down, I'm ever the spectator but this time, I've missed something that I'm not sure I can live with missing and if my legs don't hurry up and get me to my destination, I might lose my shit.
The second the immediate danger was over, we had the okay to carry on as usual in the stoicism of duty to not be distracted longer than necessary from the ultimate goal of the ship. At that point I had taken off from the bridge at a speed I hope nobody noticed but that was way faster than I could make excuses for, in order to make sure I didn't miss what would surely be the best sight to ever behold in my life.
I have seen supernovas, nebulas no other humans will probably ever see, worlds I could only ever imagine, species that seem impossible and things that science can barely explain but this… this will make them all soooooooooooooooo insignificant in its magnificence.
My speed has gone from wide strides to a restrained run, working my way as quickly as possible through the maze of corridors and befuddled crew members puzzling over my haste to pass them on my way to greatness.
The rules and regulations to which we live aboard Voyager has been a hard pill to swallow, especially seeing as I noped out on them before to join the Marquis, the rigid and unyielding nature of some of them in particular and the effect they have on what little free will is left after duty ends is something that I struggle to support. They leave very little life to live at times and have drawn immovable lines between people that extinguish all hope of anything resembling real life. They leave a yearning that cannot be sated, for the rules do not allow.
Today is a ray of sunshine perhaps in the perpetual gloom we so closely follow towards the Alpha Quadrant. And I will happily get sunburnt if it means something other than the constant darkness that never seems to cease in its pursuit of our souls.
Checking the ships computer once more to ensure I've got my timings right, I hop into the turbo-lift with just a smidge more giddy-up in my step than I can explain away as nothing and a smile that shouldn't really be there as broadly as it is right now.
When the doors open to reveal an empty corridor, part of me is relieved to see there will hopefully be no witnesses to what is about to unfold and slightly anxious about if I've missed the magical alignment of fate that should allow this moment to happen.
For a moment I consider getting back into the lift and resigning myself to a fate that is more boring and unsatisfying but then I hear something.
Something I can't quite put my fingers on.
A far away tingling of what could be bells.
Half expecting Santa Claus to come riding around the corner in a sleigh, I wonder for a moment if I've stepped off onto the wrong deck (which begs the question of when did we get a Christmas deck?) but then I realise what it could be and with a joy I can barely contain, I realise that what is coming is going to be far more entertaining than I thought.
The jingle bells grow louder and as the source finally rounds the corner of the corridor, all thoughts of anything but this moment are lost.
Thank you spirits.
The form before me is in mid-scamper, attempting the best inconspicuous shuffle-trot I have ever seen in an apparent attempt to not be noticed in their current get up and doing a fairly shit job of doing so, as a cacophony of metal jangling noises and tiny feet scampering in heels far too high for a Hobbit of her stature accompany her every step.
So far, her head is turned over her shoulder as she trots down the corridor so she's yet to have spotted me standing here in a nirvana I cannot describe, her dress is hitched in her hands in an attempt to move faster but she's so distracted by making sure no one sees her she keeps catching herself in the slight train of the impressive dress dragging along the carpet behind her.
She reaches the end of the corridor, just inches from me still stood waiting in the open turbo-lift, still looking over her shoulder, she reaches out for the lift call button and when it doesn't make its usual activation sound, she turns to look confused and then jumps about three feet backwards in shock when she clocks me standing there with what has to be the smuggest smile known to mankind.
"HELL!" Kathryn's annoyance is evident.
"It had to be you, of course it had to be you!" Very evident.
The death glare is in full effect but completely useless on me, I am too overwhelmed to be anything but overjoyed at her appearance.
"Your Majesty." I gesture for her to enter the lift beside me.
"Fuck off." Her eyes are burning fury but I'm dying with the need to laugh, I cannot take this, this is literally the best day ever.
"You can't stand there all day." Although I wish she would because moral would go up a hundred percent. She makes no move to enter the lift, she could not be more pissed off if she tried.
The hands go to the hips in what is usually referred to as "The Janeway means business" pose in a vain attempt to maintain some sort of professionalism but it's also completely lost on me, I cannot take her seriously at all. Her silent protest doesn't last long though, as the distant sounds of rapidly approaching chatter causes her to suddenly launch herself into the turbo-lift like a flying squirrel and brace herself against the wall out of sight.
As slowly as humanly possible, I draw out of my movements to close the doors just to further delay the stealthy exit of the Queen of the Spider People as the Queen herself curses loudly at me in her agonising torture "Enough people have seen me today in this ridiculous thing today will you close the damn doors already?!".
I'm never going to get these kinds of opportunities again, not unless the Spirits are incredibly kind to me, so I'm going to have my cake, eat it, order another, eat that then order some cider and throw an all-night party because I'll be hot damned if this isn't the best moment of my life.
The doors slide shut and I voice the command for deck three while Kathryn glares at me silently from across the lift.
I have no idea what Tom Paris was thinking when he made this outfit for her but hooooeeeeee it's a doozy! It might have fit the Queen Arachnia of his program, but to see Kathryn Janeway wearing this dress… Dear Gods, I could not be happier, it's like seeing Tuvok in a bonnet and frilly breeches, I cannot even begin to describe the happiness that this is bringing.
For one thing, the dress itself looks like some sort of chainmail from the crusades that collided with a log saw being operated by an overly perverted delinquent, which I guess it kinda was… There's a long and I mean loooooooong, slit up the front which alone was a crime, revealing far more shapely and appealing legs than I imagined our dearly height deficient Captain possesses. The shoes have given her somewhat of a boost which isn't surprising given the heel on them on which Kathryn is teetering upon, she looks like she robbed a unicorn of its horn, dipped it in paint and strapped it to her foot. But the sensation of being face and eye level with Kathryn is somewhat novel, even if she is avoiding my not so inconspicuous gaze and is herself staring at the floor less betray her embarrassment.
There's an almost shimmering and blinding effect of the dress, it's dramatic long and sweeping style somewhat heavy on Kathryn's petite frame as though it weighs a ton to wear, in places she's swamped in material and it only adds to show just how small she really is. It's certainly over-the-top and camp but insanely brilliant all at once.
This is the most un-Captainly she has ever looked. Kathryn's usual style is somewhat understated and almost "Earth Mother" at times, a look I quite appreciate on her, I can't say I've ever pictured her style as anything other than conservative. The most daring thing I've ever seen her wear is one of those corseted dresses from her gothic novels in the holodeck and while this may not be the most flattering of dresses, it was certainly the most interesting and entertaining one I've come across in a long time and I cannot begin to express how much I hope this isn't the only time I see it. She looks like she stepped off the pages of an old noir fiction written whilst on acid.
Having Seven stalking about the ship in next to nothing with all her womanly assets on display on a daily basis has damaged Kathryn's confidence somewhat, especially seeing as age has crept up on us all like a hammer lately. I've gone from dashing silver fox with the strength and stamina of a bull, to… whatever this is right now…. Slightly fuller, slightly less toned, somewhat needing the gym and a stamina that is slightly more… flat…. If not, non-existent.
Age has softened me in sooooo many ways, ways I don't really want to get into right now, but it's mostly due to my own laziness that I've not stayed in shape and a lack of anything resembling a love life that has robbed my stamina from me when I wasn't looking. Kathryn on the other hand has taken to age like fine wine and that has been surprising.
Where my redemption was handed to me on a plate by Kathryn Janeway, Kathryn Janeway has yet to find hers. The guilt she still carries as a heavy burden for us becoming stranded out here weighs heavily on her in ways most cannot imagine. She works tirelessly to get us home, even as she loses her way herself, through hard work, forgetting to eat, forgetting to sleep and offering herself as a sacrifice on a regular basis to whatever Spirits need sating to get her crew home safely.
The beginning of our journey, when the stress was overwhelming and times were incredibly turbulent, I thought Kathryn would punish herself to death, she became a breathing skeleton that haunted us with her guilt, wasting away before us in her quest to fulfil her duty.
Although the stress never really leaves us, recently she has taken onboard repeated requests from myself and the Doctor to look after herself and has finally started to look healthy again. Her fuller figure suits her better than any burden and quite frankly she still drives me wild…
Wait…
I mean…
It really suits her….
The collar of her dress is a damn near health hazard and could potentially be used as weapon if I make fun of her too much, it's grandeur almost appears as an intricate vase supporting her head in place of flowers. It is pure genius on Tom's behalf and also slightly worrisome for whether Tom is harbouring a crush on his dear Captain because overall the dress is insanely risqué and entirely enticing despite its absurd hilarity.
The wig just takes the biscuit really. Although I have to admit the dark colour does actually suit her, it reminds me of that damned bun of steel she kept knotted on her head that was the only thing that stayed in place while the rest of us looked like we'd been dragged through a bush backwards in battle. I prefer the shorter look she's been maintaining lately, however much I appreciated her long hair when it was untied she definitely suits the shorter style. This wig just makes her look pale and somewhat terrifying.
Her makeup is…. Striking… To say the least… The entirety of her look is spot on for Tom's program, but completely insane to say the least.
What is causing a slight amount of alarm though is the rather intriguing and somewhat generous amount of cleavage on show, for what is essentially a small window onto her chest region, the gap is enough to cause me difficulty in not looking directly at it.
"Out with it." Kathryn's voice slices through the silence that had hung so awkwardly so far, the hands go to the hips once more and she turns to look at me with a menacing gaze.
"I don't know what you're referring to." I lie, because I'm enjoying this far too much.
"The jokes, get 'em all out now mister because this is your one opportunity, when those lift doors open we are never speaking of this again."
"You look like a walking mirror ball attacked a Christmas tree with a suit of armour."
"Here we go…" Kathryn sighs, rolls her eyes and almost squares herself ready for the onslaught.
"I've seen supernova's less blinding than this dress."
"Stop looking at it and maybe you'll keep your eyesight." She growls.
"Is that a threat or is that the health warning written on your dress?" I waggle my eyebrows at her.
"Depends on if you've got anything else to say." She cocks her eyebrow at me and narrows her gaze to be as lethal as possible.
"You look like the bride of Frankenstein, bride of Dracula and a satellite all in one." I can't help myself, this is entirely too much fun.
"Demotion could really suit you." She muses.
"Not as much as this dress suits you, oh by the way we had a hail while you were having fun on the holodeck, it was the Borg, they wanted to know if they could borrow you to replace their deflector dish." They could make an entire cube outta this thing, this dress could stand a nuclear blast by the looks of it.
"Demotion is too good for you, air-lock it is." She nods happily to herself.
"B'Elanna wanted to see if we could somehow incorporate the dress into the ship's shielding." I should really stop now but I cannot resist, this is probably the highlight of the entire Delta Quadrant experience.
"What the hell was I thinking when I put this thing on?!" Kathryn growls once more, tugging the dress back into place as she speaks, the material keeps shifting and riding up and she's been fidgeting non-stop to keep it under control but is failing miserably to preserve her dignity. I've seen enough to know I will not be sleeping much later, this will haunt my every thought. "I should have insisted Paris wear it himself, this dress is impossible!" She huffs and throws her arms up in exasperation, only serving to reveal even more tantalising sights as she does so.
"Uhh, your cup runneth over your majesty." I nod towards her bust line without looking too directly at it as Kathryn huffs once more and attempts to shoe horn herself back into her dress.
When Kathryn had agreed to be Queen Arachnia, I couldn't have been more surprised or happier. Usually she likes to be at the forefront of danger with every battle that befalls us, but this was something I never thought she would ever agree to do but considering her eagerness to do anything to get the crew home safely, it really shouldn't be that surprising that she would do anything, including dressing up like a demented Queen, in order to ensure the wellbeing of her crew.
When she had actually initially agreed to play Arachnia, I was secretly hoping there was a part in there for a strapping and well hung first officer but alas, as always, I was left on the side-lines while all the real fun happens.
I never get to be a part of the fun when it rarely does happen, I always seems to be forgotten in the background while everyone else gets to live it up, not that I should complain. I've found that my ability to blend into a background has it's uses occasionally but it really helped when I realised what the journey home was going to be like aboard this vessel. I was given another chance to redeem myself for my many, many wrongs, but had also a duty to serve in doing so, despite my judgements or morals.
Voicing my concerns or wishes when it goes against what duty expects or what the situation calls for is not something that makes a seventy-year journey a pleasant one, it makes it awkward, difficult and uncomfortable for everyone if I'm whining the whole way home because I don't agree with the politics of the Federation.
Kathryn trusted me based on very little, she gave me an opportunity when most would have left me there stranded or taken me as prisoner for the entire journey back to the Alpha Quadrant. Realising our situation was more than a little bizarre and the only way home was unity with people who were far more forgiving than I was friendly, I've vowed to do whatever I can to repay Kathryn for her generosity, trust and forgiveness and support her, even if it means shutting up most of the time and loitering in the background so I don't offend anyone.
Just once though, I would like to be involved with something more fun than assigning duty rosters.
I would have given a limb to have been there today on the holodeck, instead of having Tuvok staring at me across the Bridge while we listened to the insanity of Tom's program playing out on the comm system. Kathryn was absolutely hamming it up by the sounds of things and I couldn't be more pissed that I missed out seeing it all for myself.
I could have fit into that robot thing, no one would have noticed me.
"The next time I agree to something this stupid, remind me of this moment." Kathryn fidgets once more with her dress "This dress is getting recycled the second I walk in my quarters."
"Don't do that, I've been working on a farming program that I need a scarecrow for." She gently wallops my arm but fails to bury the laugh that spills out as she does, she knows how insane she looks right now.
"This is borderline torture Chakotay, give me a break would ya? I already look this ridiculous, do not add to my misery."
"But it's upping my moral like you wouldn't believe." It really is.
The whine of the turbo-lift begins to drop as we approach deck three. This saddens me somewhat.
"Please tell me Paris or the Doctor took a holoimage of you in this."
"I threatened Mr Paris with another thirty days in the brig if anyone took a picture, haven't I been humiliated enough for one day?" She sighs again. She needs coffee, I can tell.
"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, can you blame me?" My mouth is still broadly smiling and I know she's noticed that it's the happiest I've looked in a long time.
"I suppose not, I'm guessing you're to blame for me not being able to get a transport directly back to my quarters?"
"Possibly."
Kathryn rolls her eyes in response and buries her face behind her hand. When the photonic invasion was over and we were restored to normal space, Kathryn had requested to be transported from the holodeck directly to her quarters, I had the transporter room refuse her request just so I could catch a glimpse of the Queen of the Spider people stalking the corridors. Totally worth it, would do it again.
The turbo-lift stops and while Kathryn will be tottering off back to her quarters to de-Queenify herself, I must sadly return to the Bridge.
Kathryn struts out of the lift and gathers the dress in her hands once more, no doubt so she can make it back to her quarters as quickly as humanly possible.
I take a mental snapshot which I'm going to get a remarkable amount of use from and hope to the Spirits that when my memories begin to fade with age, this isn't one of the first that's lost.
"Time's up Mr Chakotay, the wonderful thing about being Captain is that the next time the future of this ship depends on Captain Proton and his band of morons, I'll make damn sure that Queen Arachnia becomes your starring role." She winks and the doors slide shut.
Damn that was awesome.