Author: Christy Anderson
You can contact me at kittyunlimited@go.com.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount minus Ensign Christy Anderson and a few selected insignificant characters
This is a third sequel to the story Void of Night. New readers will not be terribly lost, but if you are more curious, I strongly suggest you begin at Void of Night, followed by Stars of Night. This sequel begins during the episode Deadlock in season 2 where Naomi Wildman is born and other things. The bold italic words in the story are unspoken words transferred over a telepathic link, but not to worry I remind you of that throughout the story. I hope you enjoy this addition. I continue to thank you for your encouragement and support.
Child of Night (Kind der Nacht): Part 1
Ich bin nicht evincißle, dort bin immer ein Punkt des Todes, von an überschreiten. Weil zu allen Sachen, gibt es ein Ende…
I am not invincible; there will always be a point of death, of passing on. Because to all things, there is an end.I smiled weakly and gave myself credit. Ironic-- that when you are so close to death how easily memories flood back. For the past few seconds, that was all that was on my mind. I could picture my father telling me that slowly, as if there was some profound truth that I needed to capture. Weil zu allen Sachen, gibt es ein Ende… To all things there is an end.
The secured Bridge was dark, the red flashing lights on and off, on and off. By now I had tuned out the klaxons loud roar. We all sat together, stood together, divulging unspoken thoughts and feelings seconds before the end.
The Captain's face was grim and tightly pressed. Even in her final moments she wouldn't drop her brave façade. She was Captain always and foremost. Sitting on her chair with less than half of the crew surrounding her, she looked ahead, at something that was not visible to the rest of us. Her glare bore past the room, past Voyager, past the Delta Quadrant, and perhaps to Earth. She was careful not to look at any of us, yet if the dim lighting hit her face just right, you could see the small tear forming in her eye. After so many months together, we were here to come to such an ungodly end.
Her shoulders were rigid, and she still had enough pride to hold her head high. Perhaps subconsciously she believed that her achievements were all that mattered. In almost eight months we had accomplished more than any Starfleet mission. One of the highlighted accomplishments was the achievement of surpassing warp 10. As I looked on her face, I could read millions of emotions, only expressed in the frightened look of her eyes.
What amazed me was the calm silence that governed over the entire room, even as we could hear the tortured scream of others. The terrorizing clomping of Vidiian feet seemed to grow louder and louder as the sounds echoed down the corridors. There were maybe sixty of us in the small space of the Bridge that had been ushered in hurriedly and locked in temporarily. Still there was more of the unsuspecting crew spread through all of the decks, innocent victims to the Vidiian. Everyone was frightened and there were small stifled sobs as the computer beeped.
"Fifty seconds until self-destruct," it chimed effortlessly.
For a moment I could see a loss of control of Chakotay's face. It was intriguing how he too could remain so calm. He sat in his chair next to the Captain, and they looked at each other, their gaze communicating more than words ever could. His etched tattoo seemed to be darker than ever, and for the first time I contemplated its meaning, but not for long. He closed his eyes and folded his hands, attempting to shut everything out in his last few moments of life.
Standing at his console, Tuvok was the next I noticed. Yet his unfailing formal appearance showed no distress. He lifted his head and gave a meaningful nod; his own way of revealing how much he had come to respect and appreciate us. Fittingly, he was the first of the group to say anything. "It has been a most rewarding experience serving with you all," he said emotionlessly. Satirically I thought of the positive side to Vulcan logic and control. Even in the face of death and destruction, it did not visibly seem to phase him. I was positive that if Tuvok had heard my thoughts, he would have told me that in accepting the inevitable he found peace, and I realized the degree of truth in that. All things come to an end, even life, yet, my mind was screaming- Ich möchte nicht sterben… I do not want to die.
On the opposite side of the group, standing beside the con, Tom bravely faked a horrible smile and nodded his head. "Yeah, it's been great," he said softly, hopelessly. I turned my gaze away from Tuvok and looked at him, his dilapidated smile still plastered on his face. His blue eyes were dark, now, and even in the dim lit room they conveyed more emotion and truth than I wanted to know. His familiar blond hair shone a rusty pink as the red lights continued to flash on and off. His friendly face and his carefree personality had long since been left a ways back. The understanding and pain that harbored in his looks now were too intense to look at.
Interestingly enough, B'Elanna sat on Tom's chair at the con and he stood behind her. Innocently she had her head rested back on him. In such a time as this, her vulnerability and her loneliness shone through her hard exterior. It seemed ironic that in all the months that Tom had desperately tried to be her friend, it took an oncoming death experience to get her to show any affection back to him. Too bad the living Tom Paris would never know.
Outside the Bridge, the trample of heavy feet grew silent, and you could hear the Vidiians clawing cannibalisticly at the doors. Wistfully I acknowledged that they would be upon us at any moment. Haunting screams from unfortunate crewmembers outside the secured Bridge grew louder and more torturous. My face began to turn green as I heard their piercing screams and desperate cries for help. With a sinking feeling I knew that the Vidiians had already finished harvesting healthy organs on Deck 5; Samantha and Kes were probably long dead.
"Twenty two seconds before self destruct," the computer announced defiantly.
I gulped and tried to calm my heart that was pounding speedily in my chest. I looked down at my console at the science station and tried enormously hard not to cry. With a remorseful spirit I recognized that after everything I had been through, I was simply going to die. Warum müssen Sachen geschehen auf diese Weise?… Why do things have to happen this way?
Suddenly I felt a comforting touch on my shoulder, and looked up to my right at Tre'kent, the person that I had come to care for more than I had ever imagined. He stared at my face without a word, and opened a telepathic link. It will be all right, Christy.
The message was simple, and I tried to clear my mind of all else. I promise... he added faithfully. His face was pained, and his thoughts were chaotic. Even so, he could sense the same in me. The comfort of his loving presence beside me helped to control that chaos, and I thought sadly that if I had to die, dying beside the one I loved was the best way to leave this universe.
I turned away and angrily drove my fist to the console. Warum muß ich sterben?… Why did I have to die? Why did it have to be them that lived? I was myself until I was duplicated. Or was I the duplicate? Voyager had been avoiding a Vidiian attack by taking refuge in a class nine nebula. We had been crawling along until we were inexplicably stopped, and the warp core failed. The anomaly had duplicated us particle for particle except the antimatter. Kes, or rather a second Kes, had discovered us first. So did that make us the duplicates? Maybe it was the situation, but I couldn't keep my mind off of that taunting thought. With a faint smile I thought about Harry, and the little Naomi Wildman, a Child of Night, barely a few hours old, stored safely away on the other Voyager by now to replace the losses of them on the other crew. I desperately hoped that he still had the PADD I had handed him before he left into the other realm. If I could not live to see tomorrow, then at least my other self should have the decency to know about my well thought decision. Still, did she already know?
"Ten seconds before self destruct," I heard again. With the manner of a frightened child I leaned over and grasped Tre'kent tightly. Ich liebe Sie… I love you… I told him telepathically.
The doors to the Bridge began to open and give ever so slightly. I could hear their grunted shouts and orders. "Tons of them in here," the Vidiian men shouted. They seemed to be oblivious to the fact that Voyager was about to explode.
Everyone was frightened as the awaited moment approached. From the far side of the room, sobs and wailing cries rang out from one of the young crewman. Instinctually, I lifted my face to see all of the senior staff and miscellaneous crew for the last time. I looked up in time to see two hot tears slip down B'Elanna's cheek as she snuggled closer to Tom. Tom's face held a soft compassion and he drew her in closer as he wiped a tiny tear from his eye. Beside him, Tuvok had bowed his head again and stood peacefully in meditation. I suppose in any situation that it was `illogical' to cry or despair. The Commander imitated a similar state of reflection, attempting to make peace with his ancestors before he died.
Beside him sat the Captain... the Captain. She had been the strong leader in my life on Voyager, and she had accomplished what my Father and friends had not, she grouped me up with Starfleet. Her courageousness and her passion for exploration kept the entire crew going during the long hard months. She had helped us all accept that it might be an eternity before any of us saw earth again, yet paradoxically that was one remote fact that she had not accepted. It was so easy to distinguish the burden that she held as she continued to blame herself for our predicament day after day. The distractions that she constantly surrounded herself with only gave her temporary comfort, relief.
For a long time I had suspected that the Captain was an agnostic, relying only on her beloved science, so I curiously pondered what death meant to her. Was she feeling guilty? Did she believe that she had failed all of us? Failed herself? Perhaps she took comfort in the cold, hard fact that another one of her and us would continue to exist and survive after death. I certainly found nothing reassuring in that reality.
Just like every other day, Captain Janeway bottled herself up to the end and refused to let us see the suppressed inner person that lived everyday behind that carefully placed shield. Maybe that was what death would bring to her, a chance to be herself, and to be free from the bindings of protocol and duty. Perhaps that is what death would bring to us all-- the freedom from homesickness, suffering, and tears.
"Three... Two..." the computer counted.
Jeder hat aber eine Lebensdauer zu leben…
Everyone has but one life to live…On Earth, there was always that myth that said when you are about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. I suppose this description was accurate enough. The truth is, that when you are about to die, you suddenly see things in a different perspective. Your regrets emerge, your lost opportunities and failures. You see those frames in your life where you were the happiest, saddest. You remember those people that you loved the best. You worry about their future, and your own. In my mind I thought of all of this, especially of my Father, Tre'kent, my friends aboard Voyager. In the last seconds, I found my peace, my inner peace.
There was an eternity, a void, enveloped between those last three seconds, enough time to take a step back and come to a fitting conclusion in the ending chapter of my life. The images, the blurs, and the slabs of memories filled my mind as I held onto Tre'kent. With a last deep breath, I cleared the dominating chaos away enough to silently hear Tre'kent's I love you too, Christy…
"One..."
To be continued…