AN: Here we are, the first chapter in this part of the story. It picks up on Voyager, right after the end of the first part.
If you haven't read the first part, then I imagine it might answer a lot of questions for you along the way with this part. At any rate, though, you can probably muddle your way through things without it if you'd like.
I am so happy to welcome all of you back that have come over from the first part, and I welcome any new readers. I hope you can find some enjoyment and escape in this little story. It's purely for entertainment and enjoyment. It's a bit of self-indulgent writing for me.
I own nothing from the show and the only profit that I make is the connection I find with you. Your comments and interactions are my payment and I thank you for all of them! It keeps me writing!
I hope that you enjoy the start! Let me know what you think!
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In nothing more than a pair of cotton boxer shorts, Chakotay stood in the moonlight. There was nobody around to see him. He could have worn even less. The grass under his feet was cool and soft—not prickly as grass could sometimes be.
The night was still. He could hear the sounds of crickets chirping and frogs bellowing out from the river that ran close to the cabin. The air was cool and easy to breathe.
It was a perfect night.
And in his arms, Chakotay held what he was certain was the most perfect thing to ever be created in the entire universe.
Her name was Sekaya Shannon Janeway. She was hours old and she had a wealth of dark hair and dark blue eyes that could change their shade a great deal in the first six months of her life. She was his daughter—brought into the world by his wife and the most amazing woman that he was sure had ever walked the ground on any planet or travelled the skies in any of the four quadrants.
"A-koo-chee-moya," Chakotay whispered, the breezeless night letting even his quietest words carry, "we are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers, and from the bones of our people, but I come seeking the opportunity to give thanks to all the spirits that have brought us to this point. I come to give thanks that my wife is well and that she's strong. I come to give thanks for the daughter that the spirits have blessed us with. I come to humbly ask for the spirits to continue to guide us as we seek a way home and we try to live the best we can each day. I come to ask the spirits that they would guide Kaya, my daughter, as she grows, and that they would guide her mother and I as we try to lead her down the right paths. But spirits—more than anything—I simply come to give thanks. I am far more blessed than I ever dreamed I could be."
The spirits didn't answer him, but Chakotay had already learned that sometimes their answer came in the form of no answer at all. He wasn't seeking visions, after all, so he shouldn't expect to have any. He only wanted to give thanks and ask for continued blessings. There was no need for a great show over that.
Kaya slept soundly in the soft pajamas and light blanket that her mother had chosen for her first night outside of the warm space that Kathryn Janeway's body had provided her for the past nine months.
She had no reason to complain that it was too hot or too cold. The weather was perfect.
Of course, Chakotay knew that it was perfect because he'd programmed it to be that way. If he wanted, he could give the command to the computer that it stir up a light storm—some gentle rain to give them something to listen to while they rested in the cabin—and it would come to pass immediately. He could, if he wanted, change night to day in an instant.
He wasn't a god, of course, but the holodecks made him something of a god.
Kathryn Janeway wasn't a god, either, but the fact that he was holding the practically perfect person in his arms, which she'd brought into the world only hours before, made her seem nearly divine to Chakotay.
He readjusted the nearly weightless bundle of his daughter and took her inside the cabin. Her mother slept hard and soundly, and Chakotay was careful not to disturb her. He wanted her to rest since rest was the primary thing that their doctor had prescribed to help her recover from the birth.
Chakotay walked carefully and quietly into the bedroom. He could hear Kathryn breathing. The light from the programmed stars outside illuminated the room just enough that he could see that she was sleeping on her back with her arms thrown around in abandon and the blanket tangled around her. She'd tied her hair back to keep it out of the way during the birth of their daughter, but now it was mostly loose and it trailed in every which direction over the pillow and bed.
Not much more than a year ago, Chakotay would have found it hard to believe that she would ever love him or that he would ever be able to openly love her. Now he couldn't begin to imagine what life would be like if she wasn't his to love.
He dared to carefully lean over—mindful of neither disturbing her nor Kaya—to brush his lips gently against her temple. She didn't flinch and he smiled to himself. He took the baby with him and left the room. He slipped into the nursery that had been created just for Kaya in their holohome, even though she'd never seen it before, and he settled into the rocking chair to rock the baby while she dreamed of whatever her very short life might have to offer her subconscious mind.
"Let me tell you a story," Chakotay said. "It's about an angry warrior who lived in conflict with the rest of his tribe and the woman warrior, who was brave, and beautiful, and very wise, who taught him the true meaning of peace…"
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"We don't have to run, Chakotay," Kathryn said.
"We're hardly running," Chakotay said. Still, he thought better of it and slowed his steps for her benefit. His stride was a good deal longer than hers and, though the doctor was able to do a great deal to help her recover from the birth with the help of a dermal regenerator, there was still a lot of healing that only time would do for her.
Kathryn was a little pale, Chakotay thought, but the doctor had assured him that she was doing well. She needed to rest, but that would be a normal prescription for anyone immediately after bringing another of their species into the world.
If anyone saw her, without knowing the truth, in her soft cotton dress, padding back toward their actual quarters aboard Voyager, they would have thought she was still pregnant—though she didn't appear to be quite as pregnant as she had when she'd walked to the holodeck the last time with B'Elanna Torres. That too, would pass, Chakotay was sure, and he wasn't about to mention it to Kathryn.
She walked slowly beside him carrying the bag that held a few of her belongings and some of Kaya's things. Chakotay carried the baby as Kathryn had insisted he should.
"Don't jostle her too much," Kathryn said.
"She's fine," Chakotay assured her. "I'm not jostling her, Kathryn. Did you want to carry her?"
Kathryn sighed.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"You're concerned," Chakotay said. "And that's fine. She's sleeping. She likes the motion. That's why she had me up most of the night walking her around our New Earth—trying to satisfy her need to be on the move."
"I'm sorry for that, too," Kathryn said. "You hardly slept at all."
"I wasn't in labor for nineteen hours," Chakotay said. "I'm sure I'll recover."
"Do we have to go by sickbay?" Kathryn asked.
"Our quarters," Chakotay said. "The doctor's making a house call this time. He'll be making house calls for a couple of days. He wants you to rest."
On their walk, they were fortunate not to run into too many crew members. The ones they did run into, though, rubbernecked them—their eyes trailing to try to catch a good glimpse of Kaya as she slumbered in Chakotay's arms—but none of them were bold enough to stop or ask to see the baby up-close. They were respecting their captain's privacy for the time being and allowing her to decide when and how she wanted to introduce the newest arrival to the crew.
Chakotay knew that Kathryn knew they couldn't wait long, though, when they were almost to their quarters and one of the young ensigns, rubbernecking to try to catch some glimpse of the baby, collided awkwardly with another who wasn't paying attention to where they were going for the same reason. The two crew members apologized to each other and somewhat uncomfortably apologized to the air around them so that it could carry their apologies wherever necessary, and then they scurried off.
Kathryn smiled at Chakotay when he made eye contact with her.
"I think it's time we made our announcement," Kathryn said.
"I think they've waited long enough," Chakotay agreed. "But whenever you're ready. I don't want to rush you. You don't have to share her with anyone until you're ready."
"Except for you," Kathryn said, a smile playing at her lips.
"Was there ever any question?" Chakotay responded with a laugh. He pressed the button to let them into their quarters and he followed behind Kathryn. As soon as they were inside, Kathryn dropped the bag she was carrying in the middle of the floor to be dealt with later, and she flicked off the slip-on shoes that she liked wearing when she padded back and forth to the holodeck. She stretched and groaned, making it quite clear to Chakotay that she could still stand some rest, and she went directly to the replicator and demanded a cup of coffee with cream.
She'd once preferred her coffee black, but carrying their daughter had brought about a taste for cream—along with several other changes to her taste buds. Chakotay didn't know if her taste would return to what they had been with time, but for the time being she seemed to prefer things as she'd gotten used to them during the past nine months.
"Caffeine, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked.
"The doctor said it was fine in moderation," Kathryn said. "One cup is moderation."
"You need to rest," Chakotay said.
"I've been waiting nine months for this cup of coffee," Kathryn said. She tasted the liquid and licked her lips seductively with satisfaction after she swallowed the first sip. She moaned, too, and tossed her head back with the kind of satisfaction that only good coffee or an equally satisfactory orgasm could ever bring her.
It was a sudden reminder to Chakotay that he meant to ask the doctor exactly how long they would have to wait before he was able to offer Kathryn more than the cup of coffee to stimulate her senses.
"Besides," Kathryn said, recovering from the pleasure of that first taste of one of her most favorite vices, "giving birth to Kaya was—hands down—one of the most exhausting things I've ever done in my life. I could sleep a year if I were given the opportunity."
"Maybe you don't have a year," Chakotay said, "but you've got time."
Kathryn walked around to the couch, put the coffee mug down on the table, and then came toward Chakotay with her arms outstretched. She didn't have to say it for Chakotay to know what she wanted.
"Let me see her," Kathryn breathed out with the tone of voice that seemed to already belong almost exclusively to Kaya. "Oh—look at you," she sighed when Chakotay made the transfer of the infant to her arms. "Look at how beautiful you are. And how—special."
Chakotay swallowed down his laughter. He followed Kathryn as she made her way back to the couch and settled down with the baby in her arms. She cradled her and rocked her a little. She touched her hands and her face. She hadn't moved beyond looking at her like she couldn't believe she was real. Chakotay understood the sentiment. He couldn't stop looking at the baby like she couldn't possibly exist.
"Voyager," Kathryn said, touching her combadge, "this is your captain speaking. I want to thank Commander Tuvok for acting in my absence. I'm here with Commander Chakotay and we're going to have to ask a few more days of absence. I have—in my arms—someone who would like to meet you all. I know you've all been anticipating her arrival, almost as much as we have. You've been calling her the first baby for the longest time, but now there's more that you can call her. There's more that you can know about her. Her name is Sekaya Shannon Janeway, but she'll answer to Kaya most of the time. I know you'd all like to know a little bit about her, so I'll tell you that she was born weighing six pounds and one ounce. She's twenty-two inches long and her hair is dark like her father's. She already has her father's dimples, too."
Chakotay laughed to himself and touched his combadge to tap into her line.
"This is Commander Chakotay," he said. "I just wanted to add that Kaya already has her mother's eyes, even if the captain might forget to tell you that. And she and her mother are doing well. We appreciate that you are all respecting our privacy as we take this time to get to know our little one."
"But we're also looking forward to letting you all meet Kaya and to letting Kaya get to know her Voyager family. We hope you're going to love her, and we know she's going to love all of you. We hope that—you'll join us in a few days to welcome her."
"But until that time," Chakotay said, "we do appreciate your giving us the opportunity to get her settled. Chakotay out."
Kathryn smiled at him.
"Janeways out," she said. "Captain and first baby respectively."