Chapter 2
'What is going on? Where is she? What's happened to her? It's not like Kathryn to oversleep! Well, it's not like Kathryn to sleep at all…" Thoughts warred through his mind as the turbolift's doors hissed open. Alien-induced coma, concussion, depression… worst-case scenario after worst-case scenario played at him a he punched in her door code. She often changed the code, but he'd always been able to figure it out. It was a game he played with her. He knew Kathryn often liked to think of herself as a mystery – something difficult to anticipate and grasp. And to most, she was. She most certainly was to hostile alien species: the Borg, the Kazon, Species 8472… But he had always been able to see past all of it. He'd always looked past her inscrutability and his gaze landed on the woman underneath. He unnerved her, as no one else had ever been able to. With Justin and Mark she'd always gotten her way. A simple lie, a slip of the tongue, a simple manipulation was all it had taken to get her way. But, he'd never let anything slip past. He knew when she was hiding something – when she was being subversive. Truth be told, he unnerved her. At the third attempt the door slid open. He smiled. The winning number had been his student identification number from the academy.
Her quarters were dark, the only light coming from the passing stars. If she were awake, she would have stalked out by now.
"Kathryn" he called out tentatively as he moved into her bedroom. And then he saw her and, like it always did, his breath left his chest in an instant. He'd watched her sleep on New Earth. She never knew, but every morning he would wake and watch her as the sun rose and bathed her auburn hair through the skylight over her bed. He always loved her hair. Like her, it was beautiful and complicated. Never one colour, it showed hues of hazel, red, and even some blond. In the first years that he had known her, she'd worn the length of it in a tight bun perched at the crown of her head. That bun was always something else; he'd always wondered how she kept all that hair on the top of her head – he smiled, that must have been the reason behind all those neck aches. On New Earth she's worn it in a plait, or down over her shoulders like a veil. Then, she'd said, 'to hell with it' and cut it all off. The first time he'd seen her with short hair, he'd mourned a little. But truthfully, she was breathtaking at whatever length she chose to wear it at. He looked down at her sleeping form. She looked tiny and vulnerable. Ah, another reason Kathryn hated to sleep, he thought: she was defenseless, not in complete control. But even in the midst of the beauty of the picture that he saw in front of him, he knew something was wrong. He bent lower to her and saw a thin sheen on sweat covering her arms. He gently laid the back of his hand on her forehead to feel her temperature. She felt as hot as a warp coil that was about to breach. His heart rate sped up, "Chakotay to Doctor"
"Doctor here. How can I help you, Commander?"
"Doctor, I'm with the captain in her cabin – she has a fever. She's still sleeping, but she's covered in sweat. Please come immediately!"
"On my way, Commander. Doctor out."
This could be nothing, he thought as he looked at her. This could be a simple cold. She'll wake up, argue with the Doctor, and tell him she's fine. He'll disagree and shove a hypospray at her and everything would be fine. But, instinctively nothing about this situation felt fine. He gently nudged her shoulder, "Kathryn" he whispered gently. No response. "Kathryn" he whispered again, tenderly brushing a sweat-drenched piece of hair from her face. She stirred, slightly and looked up at him with squinted eyes and smiled, "You're here. She's beautiful isn't she? I knew it, Chakotay. I just knew that she would look like you." She closed her eyes again. He was completely perplexed. Who is she? Who looks like me? "Kathryn" he said more firmly, "Kathryn wake up". No response. Her breathing was even. He'd never seen her like this and his worry was reaching dangerous levels. Unconsciously, he caressed her arm. The door to her cabin swooshed open, "Commander, please move aside". The Doctor moved his tricorder probe over the captain's sleeping form, "temperature 103.4, pulse 85, respirations 19… Commander we need to get her to Sickbay now!"
Chakotay tapped his com badge, "Chakotay to Transporter Room 1. We need a site to site transport from the Captain's quarters to Sickbay immediately!"
"Transporter Room 1 here. I'm sorry commander, but we're in the middle of a diagnostic. Seven wanted to make some additions to the transporter controls to up their efficiency at long range. They'll be online in 20 minutes."
"We don't have 20 minutes, Commander" the Doctor stated, "You'll just have to carry her".
Chakotay drew in a breath and looked down at the Doctor, "Ok but no one tells her that when she wakes up!"
The Doctor nodded knowingly, "we need to get going, Commander. Not being one to break Doctor-patient confidentiality, but this is serious and we need to start running scans as yesterday".
Purposefully, Chakotay leaned down and gathered the sleeping Captain into his arms. "Get her robe – I don't think she'd want anyone to see her in this peach night gown". They covered her and headed out towards the turbolifts.
