Western Sweden, Early December 2380
The farm's driveway was a long one, tapering off where it connected to the road which led into the village after weaving down the mellow hill on which the farmhouse sat. The view was obscured by the snowflakes dancing across the leaden grey skies before joining their brethren to thicken the carpet of snow on the ground. Still, the pair of blue eyes peering between the curtains, half closed to keep out the draft, were keen enough to spot the lone figure alighting swiftly from the bus, who lifted a gloved hand in thanks to the driver for the unscheduled stop before setting off at a determined but trudging pace towards the house. The watcher's eyes dropped away from the window, having seen all she needed to, and she instead concentrated on climbing down from the back of the sofa to the ground. Being blessed with the agility of a mountain goat, which her mother and great-aunt often sighed and fretted over even as they watched in admiration, she was soon rushing to her next goal, feeling guilt free about opening the door by herself because her mother would soon be here anyway, and set off eagerly down the hill as fast as her little legs would carry her.
Her mother's steps slowed, a smile pulling at her tired lips, as she spotted the little figure coming down the hill in a haphazard route only a child would take, her platinum hair shimmering in the evening fading light, streaming out behind her like a banner. She forced her face into a serious expression as her daughter reached her, even as she fought the urge to grin in response to her child's enthusiastic greetings, garbled though they were. "Katharina-Irene, what did I tell you about going out in winter without appropriate clothing? Have you even got your shoes on?" she reprimanded despairingly. The girl obligingly lifted her feet out of the snow to reveal her sturdy winter boots, eyes twinkling, and her mother ran a hand through her own golden hair to restrain a laugh. Her daughter's sense of the literal was almost as absolute as her own, but she had to check, just two weeks ago, she had walked through the snow in slippers to greet her. "Alright, good." She conceded, "But does Auntie Rini know you're out here?"
The child's head dipped guiltily, another mannerism picked up from her mother. "No…" She admitted, "But she's on phone, I keep quiet!"
Her mother smiled ruefully at her three year old's logic. "Then you did the correct thing baby, but promise me you'll only come outside if myself or your aunt come with you."
"Promise." Katharina-Irene agreed, her childish voice at it's more crystal clear and sincere.
Her mother knelt briefly in the snow to scoop her up, letting the child take her briefcase as she started to carry her up the hill to the front door. "What did you and Auntie Rini do today while I was at work?"
"We built…snowgirls." Katharina-Irene answered thoughtfully, thumb in mouth as she cuddled into her mother's hold.
"Snowgirls?" She echoed, her brows furrowing as she wondered whether she'd missed something. "I thought it was always 'snowmen' Katta."
"I wanted snowgirls, like me!" Katharina-Irene explained simply, making her mother laugh. "I make them pretty…"
"I'm sure you did." Her mother assured her, disguising her wince as she thought of the clothes Katta had likely ruined dressing up her 'snowgirls'. "I'll see them later, but for now I need to start preparing our dinner." She declared as she reached the wide open door and brought them inside, having to slam the door hard behind them shut out the worsening weather. Lowering her burden to the floor, she began to kick the snow out of her shoes, "Put my briefcase in the office please Katta älskling." Katta happily trotted off into the office, just off the hall, and she had time to catch her breath and shrug off her damp coat and yank off her gloves, flexing her fingers to restore feeling, the metal crisscrossing the left hand made all the more prominent by the action. The hall mirror reflected a face flushed rosy with colour, highlighting the beauty in her face she was usually wholly ignorant of, but she didn't bother to dwell on her appearance as she made the short journey to her aunt's spacious kitchen, she knew from experience that she couldn't delay Katharina-Irene's meals for long if she wanted an amiable child.
She was soon so absorbed in flittering around the exactingly organised kitchen that she didn't even turn around when she heard her aunt's shuffling steps enter the room. "Good evening Aunt Irene, Katta told me you were on the phone. I hope she wasn't too obstinate today, she told me about the 'snowgirls'…"
"Annika." Her aunt's serious tone made her turn around, the pot of rice, with water just added, still in her hand. "I took the phone call for you min flicka. It was from Starfleet."
"Starfleet?" She echoed, old nausea rising in her throat as she took in Irene's distressed face. "Concerning what?"
"Oh käraste…" Irene began faintly, starting towards her, "Harry Kim has died."
The pot clanged to the floor, a sound like a thunderclap reverberating around the room. Annika stared blankly at the mess on the floor, transfixed on the starchy water spreading over the tiles as her teeth began to chatter. "How…" She choked out, forcing her quaking hands to curl around the edge of the countertop for support as her legs threatened to buckle. "Did he commit…"
"No." Irene interrupted quickly, "They're saying it was an accident, though an unexplained one." She grimaced as her niece shook her head weakly, tears beginning to leak out of the corners of her vacant eyes. "It's another tragedy, I know, but he'll be at peace now. You always worried about how tortured he was after…" The wrenching sound of a single, strangled sob made Irene trail off and settle for silently embracing the poor, traumatised, girl.
The Kims had chosen the old graveyard, one of the few not built over during the Technological Revolution of 2163 that had created such a demand for land in San Francisco. Chakotay could see the wisdom in that decision as he made his way to the back of the group of mourners, although the sleek white marble rows of the Starfleet Memorial Park, with the large one to the U.S.S Voyager prominent among them, was just about visible from this high vantage point, he doubted Harry would've got any rest lying there. The younger man hadn't had any peace since he'd avoided the crew's true grave somewhere in the Delta Quadrant by what Chakotay preferred to think of as a fluke of fate but Harry had regarded as a curse, being symbolically interred with the people he thought he'd damned would've sickened Harry.
The service was almost over, Chakotay had arrived late, had had to revive his long lost courage to face coming at all, but from what he could hear he knew it had been heartfelt. The day was dominated by a drizzling rain and there a chill in the air that was unusual here, even in December. The damp clung to the hair of the respectfully exposed heads, but did nothing to wash away the tears he could see staining the faces of Mr and Mrs Kim. They were good people, they didn't deserve for the life of their only child to turn out so blighted, but then who did? The small but cramped crowd began to move as one towards the grieving parents to give condolences as a Starfleet chaplain he didn't know concluded the brief graveside service. Chakotay found he didn't have the will to join in, not yet, and found his gaze drifting unwilling back to the Starfleet Memorial Park once again, everything was rooted there…
His huffed breathing stopped for an instant as he spotted someone even further back from the funeral than he was. The recognition was instant, although her face was averted far from his so he couldn't pick out her more unique features, but her glowing crown of hair hadn't dimmed any in the four years and change since he'd last laid eyes on her. For a moment he remained frozen to the spot, overwhelmed with powerful memories, but the next thing he knew he was heading towards her, touching her shoulder… "Seven?"
She jumped violently, as if he'd electrocuted her, her head shooting upright with the hard, blank expression he knew from her time as a drone before wavering uncertainly, fearfully, as she took him in. "Chakotay." She echoed eventually after a long, pregnant pause. "You truly resigned your commission for good then?" she asked softly as she saw his civilian black suit and tie among the sea of uniforms.
"Some time ago, not long after you left." Chakotay cleared his throat, it had started to close over at the thought of her departure. He followed her gaze, which was avoiding his, over to the freshly laid grave, "I had a bad feeling about Harry, we both did from the start, but I can still hardly believe that he's gone." He said quietly.
"He had a more difficult…or perhaps just different struggle than we did." Seven agreed thickly, "I always hoped he'd find something to cling to other than false hopes to sustain him…"
"It wasn't to be." Chakotay murmured, his fists clenching tight.
Seven exhaled a broken sigh, "No…" Her gaze suddenly moved downwards, breaking free of its brief lock with his, and Chakotay was stunned to realise that she had a small child hovering behind her, clutching one hand. Seven saw his gaze widen and smiled ruefully, "This is my daughter, Katharina-Irene."
Chakotay mirrored her smile for a moment, "Katharina… Kathryn would've appreciated that Seven."
"I thought so." Seven replied, "Aunt Irene was certainly pleased."
Chakotay chuckled fondly at the thought of Seven's aunt, at one point she'd been one of his main supports as well as Seven's. "I'm sure." He bent down to be eye-to eye with the little girl, marvelling as he did so at the striking resemblance between her and the little Annika he'd had the privilege to see so briefly long ago. If anything, the only difference was that she was even fairer, her waist length hair white blonde rather than gold, her features as delicate as a fairy's. "Hey there…" He greeted gently, seeing her shyness, "I'm Chakotay, it's great to meet you Katharina-Irene."
"Katta." She corrected, peering at him for a moment through her hair before extending her hand, which he lightly shook. "You're Mama's Commander."
"Yes…Yes I was." Chakotay confirmed awkwardly, though he tried to smile at her. Even her voice was cute, the Swedish accent strong despite the Universal Translator. "But I'm her friend now." He felt Seven's eyes rivet on him then, but when he stood upright again her face was unreadable. "I'm sorry, Harry told me you were pregnant, but I never followed up, she must be…"
"Three, last month." Seven filled in, "And therefore too much for Irene to handle singlehandedly while I came here." She looked affectionately down at her daughter before her expression became anxious, "I hope Mr and Mrs Kim aren't offended by her presence…"
"They won't be, they love kids, remember how they used to urge Harry to settle down…" Chakotay trailed off painfully, but found his mind jumping onto an equally sensitive topic. "What happened with…with the father?"
"Gustav?" Seven's chest tightened as she compared the man in front of her, the one she'd left, with Katta's father. "His involvement is…minimal. Childrearing was not part of his career projector and I knew that. He's a self-proclaimed 'workaholic', his commitment appealed to me..." She sighed to herself, "We should've remained friends and no further, but then I would not have Katta." She lifted her gaze to his briefly before dipping away, "I was, as multiple counsellors have described, in a 'bad place' when that relationship commenced." She took a deep breath, the shadows of memory fading from her face, "How is…Tessa?"
Chakotay blanched, "Harry told you about Tessa?" She gave a distracted nod, her eyes on his face. "That ended last year, things had been rocky for awhile."
"I'm sorry." Seven said politely, making Chakotay realise he hadn't even had the common courtesy to express regret about Gustav, though he felt none, beyond what he felt on Katta's behalf.
"I was too." Chakotay responded, though in truth the final end had been something of a relief. The sound of John Kim's voice calling his name made him jump and both of them quickly made their way to Harry's parents. "I'm so sorry for your loss…" He forced out through the lump in his throat as he grasped the older man's limp hand.
"It was your loss too, you two were like family to him, all the crew were." John replied, "It was just too hard for him to accept the loss of the others."
"We tried to help him…" Seven began, though to her ears her own words sounded like platitudes.
"We know dear." Harry mother interrupted through her tears, "Nothing was enough, the loss was too much."
Seven and Chakotay had the same thought, the guilt he felt was too much. It had been provisionally concluded by the ME that Harry had died in an explosion at his home. Though they were yet to find the source of the explosion, suicide had been ruled out. His former crewmembers knew what it had been though, he'd contacted both of them over the years to claim that he'd found a way to travel through time, to fix everything… To be kind to his parents however, they nodded in agreement without revealing what they knew of their son's life.
"We were hoping that the two of you would take some flowers down to the Voyager Memorial for Harry." John Kim said, his voice cracking. "We wouldn't feel right doing it ourselves, we weren't there…"
Chakotay exchanged a glance with Seven, who he knew would be as uneasy at the prospect as he was, but they were both affected by the Kims' prematurely aged, devastated faces. "Of course we will, if that's what you want." He answered gently, graciously taking the bouquets which had been selected for this solemn rite from Mrs Kim, who smiled bravely down at Katta, hiding behind her mother again as she was confronted by the unknown of overt grief.
"I'll look after your little one while you're away, we're not leaving for the wake until you come back from laying the wreaths." Mrs Kim told Seven, her voice hoarse from crying but still certain.
"No, I could not expect you to do that, not today…" Seven countered, deeply embarrassed.
"Please." The older woman pleaded, "I need some life around me, something to do with myself."
Seven couldn't remain unmoved by that plea, and she didn't want to take Katta with her to the memorial, so she gently hugged her daughter to her, "Stay with Mrs Kim while I'm away with Chakotay, and be good, she's had a very difficult day."
"Ja, Mama." Katta mumbled, hearing the sombre seriousness in her mother's tone and obediently going to Mrs Kim's side, holding her hand. That one sign of solidarity made the elderly woman smile through fresh tears.
Seven was reluctant to leave, but Chakotay took her by the elbow, giving her one of the flower wreaths, and they started the walk to the memorial in silence. Several minutes passed without a word being spoken, although thoughts of what had passed between them in the past, often in the shadow of this same memorial, haunted them both. As they approached the steps that led down to the back entrance of the Starfleet graveyard, Chakotay was pushed over the edge, the weight of what had long been left unsaid pressing down on him. "Where are you working now?"
"I managed to procure tenure at Gothenburg University." Seven answered in a low voice, looking down at her feet, carefully making a path over the grass.
Chakotay inhaled sharply, shooting her a sidelong glance. "Isn't that your parents' alma mater?"
"Yes." Seven confirmed, frowning to herself, "Job offers were not particularly forthcoming, as it was old family friends had to pull strings." She wondered, as she fought to keep the humiliation she'd felt then from her voice, why she was telling him all this.
"It hasn't smooth sailing for me on that front either." Chakotay admitted, "But I've recently decided to continue my father's research on the origin of our tribe's spiritual beliefs."
Seven truly warmed towards him for the first time, her whole face brightening. "I'm sure that will prove worthwhile for you." She assured him sincerely.
"I hope so." Chakotay found himself studying her face as she walked, the years hadn't aged her, she was as striking as ever, and seeing her with her daughter had revealed to him a new softness he'd only glimpsed before, but the strain he knew was reflected in his face was present too. "Are you going back to Sweden tonight?"
Seven surprised him by shaking her head, "No, we'll be staying here for the week. Irene's sons and their families are visiting." She didn't need to tell Chakotay about the tensions between herself and her cousins, he'd witnessed them, and if anything things had worsened since she'd moved back in with her aunt after Katta was born. They'd always resented that an ex-drone who was nominally related to them lived at their family farm, but now they grew angry at their mother for not moving out to Mars, where they both lived, to spend more time with them and help them with their children as she did with Katta. She'd learned to make herself scare during their visits. "Katta wants to see the zoo, and many other things, she's never been outside of Sweden before. I also need to research my Christmas shopping."
Chakotay smiled briefly at her unique phrasing as they reached the steps, the Voyager Memorial Wall looming below them. He reached out to take the flowers from her as she started down the steps, struggling to keep hold of her handbag and the flowers, but she withdrew from his touch, gripping the flowers tighter and descending the steps with fresh purpose, Chakotay following behind.
The huge slab of white marble, lying on its side, 140 names carved horizontally across it in rows, was as heart-stopping a scene as when they'd first seen it laid, almost five years to the day, four months after they'd returned on the Delta Flyer, their triumph overshadowed by tragedy. It struck Seven as she bent to reverentially lay her wreath by the false grave, that she and Chakotay were likely now the only two living who could put a face to every single name. "I can't believe it's been over five years." Chakotay whispered, putting her thoughts into words, "And still it feels like yesterday." When he knelt to lay his flowers, their hands brushed as they each traced the names, and they allowed themselves the comfort of shared grief, probably for the last time.
A/n: The idea for this story, particularly this prologue, has been in my mind for a while and now that a couple of my other stories are almost completed I thought I'd take a chance and post this for feedback. I've never written in this format before, with a 'flash-forward' so to speak and then telling the story out in flashback, but I hope it'll be interesting for us all and that this opening has left you all intrigued for this AU take on 'Timeless'. Thanks for reading and please review! :D
