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Red Moon

Three Months. It had been three months since Chakotay had last seen a living soul. He was alone, completely alone, in a wrecked shuttle on the surface of a gaseous moon. Somehow, the moon's gravity had sucked him in while he was passing it to get to an archaeological dig on its mother planet, and he'd lost control of the shuttle in the moon's volatile atmosphere. On impact with smoking rocks the ship had crushed and rolled, but by some miracle the pilot cabin had survived and he with it. But while he'd been lucky enough to survive the crash, and without major injury, his luck seemed to be a curse when day after day went by without rescue. With every passing day his resources depleted and he had no hope of replacing them as he could not leave the cabin. The gaseous atmosphere outside was so toxic that it would kill him in minutes. A part of Chakotay wished that it would kill him, that somehow the menacing red vapors outside would penetrate his shuttle and smother him, but the greater part of him clung to life. For if there was anything he'd learnt during the Voyager years, then it was to never give up hope, no matter how hopeless things seemed. And there was no denying that things were pretty hopeless. There was no way that a rescue team were still looking for him after all this time. They'd have given up on him after only a few days. His only hope now was that somehow, someway, someone would find him. It was unlikely, he knew that, but it wasn't unheard of for people to be found months, or even years, after being stranded. To have survived the crash, to be still alive now, he had to believe it was not his time to die, and if it was not his time to die, then someone would find him.

Suddenly, there was a thumping against his shuttle. Chakotay turned around, not knowing what to expect, and through red fog he saw the form of a person outside. He or she was wearing a white spacesuit and was pounding against the shuttle with a fist. For a moment Chakotay thought he was hallucinating, that the vapors had indeed penetrated his shuttle and were playing with his senses, but then a light flashed across the cabin and the thumping began again. Chakotay hurried over to the console, created a porch of forcefield before the dented door, and then tried to open the door. It screeched as it moved, crushed metal scraping, and only managed to open a bit before jamming. But the gap was big enough for a person to squeeze through, so the person outside squeezed through it. When they were in, Chakotay closed the door, purified the air within the forcefield, and then removed it. He then turned to the person, who he knew to be Starfleet from the suit, and spoke.

"I'm sure glad to see you," he said.

"Not half as glad as I am to see you," a familiar, a dearly familiar, voice said.

Chakotay's heart skipped a beat and he stepped forward. "Kathryn?"

The helmet came off and Kathryn smiled. "The one and only."

There were tears in her eyes and they mirrored the tears in his.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked. "Or are you really here?"

"I'm here," she said. "At least I hope so."

As they looked at each other, Chakotay noticed a bleeding gash on her forehead.

"You're hurt," he said.

"Just a scratch," she dismissed. "It was a bumpy landing. But we don't have time for chit-chat. We've got to get out of here. A storm's on its way and I'd like us to be gone when it hits. Have you got a suit?"

"Yes, but it's in the rear of the shuttle. I can't get it because that part of the ship is exposed."

"Then I'll get it," she said, putting her helmet back on. "Seal off this cabin with a forcefield."

Chakotay did as she said and then remotely opened the doors that led to the back of the shuttle. As soon as he did, red vapors hit against the forcefield he'd erected. Kathryn quickly walked into them, studying her tricorder, and disappeared into the red mist. She was gone a long time, so long that Chakotay was beginning to think he really had dreamt her presence, but then she returned, dragging a blue trunk.

"It was trapped," she said. "But I got it free."

Chakotay closed the inner door, enveloped Kathryn with a forcefield, and then did all necessary air purifications before removing the protective barriers.

"My ship's some way from here," Kathryn declared as Chakotay opened the trunk, "but we've got about an hour before the storm hits. We should make it in that."

Chakotay quickly put on the suit and then picked up a big black bag by the helm.

"My logs and something I've been working on," he said. "I don't want to leave them behind."

Kathryn manually opened the exit door and red vapors poured into the cabin. She then stepped out into the toxic air and waited for Chakotay. Before leaving, he took one last look at the cabin that had been his home for so long, then he stepped into the smog and left it forever.


Fierce winds blew against Chakotay and Kathryn as they walked through clouds of toxic gas to reach her ship. The smoking ground beneath their feet was rocky and treacherous and every step had to be made with care. Several times Chakotay almost lost his footing, but somehow he managed to stay upright. His bag felt a thousand times heavier than when he'd started, but as burdensome as it was, he was determined not to forsake it. Suddenly, as they edged their way down a craggy slope, Kathryn slipped on the rolling stones and crashed to the ground.

"No...Kathryn!" Chakotay cried.

As fast as he could, he made his way down the slope and hurried over to her. To his relief she was moving when he reached her and trying to get to her feet.

"I'm ok," she said.

"Are you sure?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes...I...I'm fine. Not far now. Come on."

She tried to walk, but as soon as she put pressure on her left leg she cried out in pain.

"I'll carry you," Chakotay said. "Put your..."

"No," Kathryn cried. "I'm fine. Just give me your arm..."

Chakotay did as she asked and arm in arm they continued their walk.


After what seemed like forever, Kathryn's ship finally came into view. It was resting on the edge of a canyon and was visibly damaged. Kathryn opened the door, leaning still on Chakotay, and together they stepped into the ship. When the door shut behind them, Kathryn let go of Chakotay and collapsed into a chair at the helm.

"Computer, purify air."

"Air purifying," the computer replied. "Air purified."

At that, Kathryn took off her helmet and began to operate the console.

"We've got about ten minutes to get the hell out of here before the storm hits," she said. "Let's hope we can fly."

Chakotay took off his helmet now and joined her at the helm.

"Damn," she said. "Engines are not..." She stopped talking and put her hand to her brow, as though she was dizzy.

"Let me," Chakotay said. "You need to..."

"No," she interrupted. "I'm fine. Got to...get us out of here."

Chakotay could see that she was anything but fine. Her face was flushed and there were beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Kathryn..." he protested.

"I said I'm fine, Chakotay..."

Engines responded at last and the ship powered up.

"That's it," Kathryn said. "Up we go."

The ship shook as it lifted up into the red clouds, jostling Kathryn and Chakotay in their seats. As their altitude increased, the shaking got worse, until they were both thrown to the floor. Chakotay landed heavily, bruising his shoulder, but he got right back up and climbed back into his seat. Kathryn was still on the floor, perhaps unconscious, but he could attend to her later. Right now he had to keep them alive. Up the ship went, up, up, up, until at last it broke orbit and the shaking stopped. Chakotay tried to go to warp, so he could fly them a safe distance from the moon, but several of the ship's systems were damaged and the warp-drive was offline. He had to settle for a maximum speed of 50,000 kms and hope it was enough to stop them getting sucked back into orbit by the moon's unpredictable gravity. The speed set, he activated the auto-pilot and went over to Kathryn. She was lying on her side, murmuring feverishly, and the gash on her head was bleeding again.

"Kathryn," Chakotay said. "Can you hear me?"

Kathryn made no reply and Chakotay's anxiety increased. There was something very wrong with her and he didn't know if it was because of her head injury, because of her fall down the slope, because of a new injury, or because of all these. Quickly, he grabbed a medkit, pulled out a tricorder, and began to scan her. As he did, he detected a festering wound on her lower left leg that was making her feverish. His eyes instinctively homed in on that part of her body and to his horror he saw burning black flesh beneath a rip in her suit.

"My God," he cried.

He quickly pulled off his gloves, put on medical ones, and tore the suit for a better look. Almost all her lower leg was black and bubbling.

"Hang in there, Kathryn," he said. "I'll get us help."

He hurried over to the helm and scanned for the nearest Starfleet vessel, but there wasn't a single one nearby. The closest ship was two days away. There was no way Kathryn was going to survive for two days. She needed urgent medical treatment. With tears in his eyes, Chakotay went back over to Kathryn and knelt beside her. She was now unconscious and Chakotay knew he had to act fast. He injected her with powerful antitoxins and antibiotics and then carried her to a biobed at the back of the ship. It was difficult to move freely in his bulky spacesuit so he tore it off and cast it aside. Then he scanned Kathryn again, hoping the medicines were having some effect, and was relieved to see that they were. He'd bought her some time, enough at least for him to contact the closest ship and get some medical advice. Leaving Kathryn on the biobed, he returned to the helm and tried to contact the ship. But the communication system was damaged and he could not.

"Damn," he cried. "Damn it!"

He tried to send out a distress call, tried several times, but the first few attempts failed and the rest were unconfirmed. After trying everything he could, he had no choice but to give up on making contact and return to Kathryn. She was exactly as he'd left her, but just a quick glance at her leg told him it was worse. The black had spread to her ankle and was almost at her knee. There was only one sure way Chakotay could think of saving her and that was to amputate her lower leg. Blinking back the tears, Chakotay took Kathryn's hand in his and cradled it.

"I have to do this," he said. "I can't let you die, Kathryn. I have to do what I have to do to save your life."

He kissed her hand, her precious hand, and then gently let it go. Then he put a hypospray to her neck, to make sure she remained unconscious, and got to work.


Four hours later, Kathryn's fever was down and her condition was stable. The operation, which was a simple procedure with 24th century technology, had been successful and she was out of danger. To make her more comfortable, Chakotay had moved her to her bedroom on the ship and she was now lying in bed, her face as white as the sheets over her. Beneath her spacesuit she'd been wearing black shorts and a blue t-shirt and he'd kept these on her. Kathryn was a very private person and she'd hate for him to have undressed her. As she slept, Chakotay sat beneath a window of stars and waited for her to wake up. As he did, he heard noises in the cabin, sounds like footsteps and talking, and he went to investigate. When he got there, he saw two Starfleet Officers looking around. One was a woman with long brown hair and the other was a tall man with short gray hair.

"Oh, hello," the woman said when she saw Chakotay. "I'm Commander Brett and this is Lieutenant Willis. We're responding to your distress call."

"Thank you," Chakotay replied. "But how did you get here so soon? Your ship is two days away."

"Evidently your short-range scanners are not working. We were only a few hours away when we received your distress call. Who are you and what's happened?"

"I'm Commander Chakotay," he answered, "and I have Admiral Kathryn Janeway onboard. My shuttle got sucked into the Red Moon's orbit three months ago and I've been stranded there until today. Admiral Janeway found me and we left the moon in this ship. She was seriously injured in a fall on the surface and I've had to do what I could to save her life."

The man spoke now. "Are you the same Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway who are supposed to be in the Delta Quadrant?"

"We were in the Delta Quadrant," he answered, "but we got home a year ago. You must be returning from deep space?"

"Yes," the woman replied. "So forgive our ignorance. It's an honor to meet you. The courage and fortitude displayed by Voyager's crew has been a great inspiration to us all. How is Admiral Janeway now?"

"Stable, but she needs medical attention."

"Then we'll beam her to our ship. Then we'll fly this vessel into our shuttle bay and give you both a ride home."


Time passed very slowly as Chakotay waited in the starship's canteen for news on Kathryn. Every passing second felt like an hour and every minute felt like a day. Then, at last, the ship's nurse, a kind looking woman with red hair and green eyes, arrived in the canteen and came up to him.

"How is the Admiral?" Chakotay asked.

"Good," the nurse smiled. "She has regained consciousness and is asking to see you."

"Does she know...about her leg?"

"Yes, and has taken it very well. In a few days time, when she's stronger, her leg can be reconstructed. Thanks to your quick thinking in severing her foot from her amputated leg and preserving it, it can be used in the reconstruction. This means only the bones in her lower leg will be artificial."

Chakotay lowered his eyes and was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Yes," the woman replied. "If you hadn't of amputated, the Admiral wouldn't be with us now. You saved her life."

"No," Chakotay said sadly. "She saved mine."


Kathryn was alone in sickbay when Chakotay arrived there. She was sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows, and there was more color in her cheeks.

"Hi," she said when she saw him.

"Hi," Chakotay replied. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and stood beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Groggy," she answered, "but otherwise I'm ok. You?"

"I'm fine." Tears filled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Kathryn."

"For what?" she asked. "For saving my life?"

"For you saving mine. You shouldn't have come looking for me. You shouldn't have risked your life this way."

Kathryn reached for his hand and took it in hers. "Of course I should have. And I'm glad I did. My leg is a small price to pay for your life."

A tear ran down Chakotay's cheek. "How did you find me?"

"By hard work. As soon as I heard you were missing, I flew out here to help look for you, but when I got here the search had been called off and your research team were abandoning the dig. They all believed you were dead, that you couldn't possibly have survived a crash landing on the moon, and they weren't going to risk their own lives to look for you. I tried to persuade them to keep looking, but they wouldn't listen. So, I stayed here by myself and did my own search. I knew there was every chance that you were just stranded, not dead, and I wasn't going to give up until I found you. Using all the data collected on your flight I estimated where on the surface you'd crashed and began to scan for your shuttle. It was difficult, as the moon's atmosphere is impervious to sensors most of the time, but over weeks I was able to narrow down your position to a few square miles. Then, yesterday, I detected your shuttle near a canyon. I wasn't able to get a full reading, so I didn't know if you were still alive or not, but it would be days or even weeks before I could hope for a better reading and I couldn't wait that long. So, when the conditions were right to attempt a landing, I flew my ship down and....well, the rest is history."

"Thank you," Chakotay said. "For not giving up on me. But I wish you had. It's so unfair that I'm standing here and you're...lying there."

"We're both going to live, Chakotay, that's all that matters. Losing my leg is nothing compared to losing you. A leg can be reconstructed. A person can't. And you'd have done the same for me. I know you would have."

"Yes," he said honestly. "I'd give my life for yours."

They gazed deep into each others eyes, both losing themselves in the other, but then the ship's doctor came out of her office and they turned to look at her instead.

"That's all for tonight," the doctor said. "You need to rest, Admiral."

Chakotay reluctantly let go of Kathryn's hand and stepped away from the bed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Kathryn nodded, as reluctant for him to part as he was to go. "Tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Kathryn."

"Goodnight, Chakotay."

The doctor then ushered Chakotay out of the sickbay and the doors closed behind him.


When Chakotay arrived in sickbay the following morning, he found Kathryn chatting and laughing with a blonde woman of about her own age.

"This is my old friend Reba Marlow," Kathryn said. "She's a commanding officer on this ship. We went through the Academy together and served together on The Al-Batani."

The woman smiled warmly. "It's an honor to meet you, Commander."

"Likewise," Chakotay said.

"We haven't seen each other for...I don't know how long for," Kathryn went on, "but too long for sure."

"Join us in a coffee?" Reba asked. "It's real and hot."

"No, thank you," Chakotay replied. "I'll let you both catch up."

"Are you sure?" Kathryn asked. "There's plenty."

"I'm sure," he said. "See you later."

With that, he turned around and left.


Over the next four days, Kathryn spent a lot of time with Reba Marlow and Chakotay hardly got to see her at all. She was still on limited visiting hours and, as so many people wanted to talk to her, he barely got to spend five minutes with her at a time. People wanted to talk to him too, mostly about the Voyager years, and he was constantly in demand. Then, before he knew it, the ship was in orbit of Earth. Chakotay was glad for their safe arrival, but at the same time he was sorry that the journey was over. This was the first time in months that he and Kathryn had been together and there was so much that he wanted to say to her. There was so much that he needed to say. He needed to tell her that he loved her, that nothing in his life was the same without her, but as always the fates conspired to deny him the chance. Maybe he and Kathryn were just not meant to be, it certainly seemed that way, but every time he was with her, the only thing he felt sure about was that he belonged at her side.

When the ship landed, Chakotay disembarked with the crew, but Kathryn was transported to San Francisco's main hospital. Chakotay went there as soon as he could, but by the time he got there, Kathryn's family was already at her bedside. Mark Johnson, her former fiance, was there too and through the room's window Chakotay saw him hand Kathryn a large bouquet of flowers. She took them with a thank you and then kissed his cheek. When Chakotay saw this, he decided not to go in but to leave. Mark was now divorced, this Chakotay had heard some months ago, and by the look of things he was back in Kathryn's life. So, with the flowers he'd brought for her under his arm, Chakotay turned around and left the ward.


SIX WEEKS LATER

In the warmth of a summer sun, Chakotay chopped up logs in the yard of his pine lodge in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was a small lodge, having only two bedrooms, but it was in a spectacular setting. Behind it, evergreen trees sloped up to majestic peaks and before it a glassy lake glistened in the sun. As Chakotay stopped chopping to take a drink, he noticed a figure in the distance walking towards the lodge. He raised up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's glare, and he saw that the approaching person was Kathryn Janeway. She was wearing a white cardigan over blue jeans and was walking as well as ever. Chakotay put down his ax and walked over to the muddy path to greet her.

"Hi," he said when she was close. "This is a surprise."

"A welcome one, I hope," she smiled.

"Always," he said. "Please...come in."

Kathryn followed him into the lodge and a large white dog got up from the fire to welcome her.

"Hello there," Kathryn said, tickling his ear. "What's your name, big chap?"

"This chap's actually a lass," Chakotay smiled, "and her name is Ivy."

"I beg your pardon, Ivy," Kathryn laughed.

"Would you like a coffee?" Chakotay asked.

"I'd love one," Kathryn said. "Thank you."

"Then one black coffee coming up. And please, sit."

As he went into the kitchen, Kathryn sat down in a wicker chair and looked around the lounge. It was small, rugged, but cozy and welcoming. There was a rug by the fire, weavings on the wooden walls, and patterned throws over the chairs. On a stone chimney was a picture of a tiger and scattered throughout the room were curious wood carvings.

"I'm afraid the coffee's replicated," Chakotay said when he returned, "but I have a feeling you don't mind."

"Not at all," she smiled, taking the coffee gratefully. "I actually prefer it now. After seven years of drinking the stuff, I just can't get used to the real McCoy. And, it kind of reminds me of those days, know what I mean?"

"Yes," Chakotay said, sitting opposite her. "Whenever I smell banana pancakes, or eat scrambled eggs, I think of Voyager."

"I miss those days," she said sadly.

"Me too."

There was a moment of reflective silence, then Chakotay broke it.

"How is your leg?"

"Fine. It was stiff for a few days after the reconstruction, but now I can't tell the difference between this leg and my old one."

"I'm glad," Chakotay said. "But I'm sorry for all you've been through."

"I'm not. I'd do it all again. I'm only sorry for your guilt. Because you don't have to feel guilty, Chakotay. I knew the risks and I took them. And I'm glad every day that I did."

"I don't feel guilty as much as sorry," he told her. "I did what I had to do to save your life and I don't feel guilty about that. I'm just sorry that you saving me ended with me having to save you."

"If you don't feel guilty," Kathryn said, "why have you been avoiding me? You barely stayed five minutes after the reconstruction and didn't come to my birthday party at all. I know you're not one for parties, neither am I, it was all my mother's idea, but you usually make the effort for a friend."

Chakotay uncomfortably got up from his chair and walked over to the window.

"Because it hurts too much being around you," he said. "I love you, Kathryn. I love you with every part of my being and I can't stop. I've tried, I've tried to move on, but without you nothing makes sense. But you're not mine to love, you've never been mine to love, and you never will be."

Kathryn put down her coffee, got to her feet, and joined him at the window. "You're sure of that?"

Chakotay turned to her. "You want someone else."

Kathryn frowned. "Who?"

"Mark."

"Mark? What gives you that idea?"

"I saw him with you at the hospital when we got back to Earth. He gave you flowers and you kissed him."

"You were there?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you come in? I wanted to see you. I longed to see you."

"Because I didn't want to intrude."

"Oh Chakotay, you wouldn't have. I won't deny that Mark wanted us to give things another go, but as far as I'm concerned what we had was over a long time ago. It's you I want, Chakotay. It's you I love."

Tears filled his eyes. "You do?"

"Of course. I thought it was you who had moved on. I fell in love with you on New Earth and I love you still. Very much. Over the past year I've missed you so much that I've only felt half alive. But do you really feel the same about me as you did all those years ago? So much has happened since then and we've both changed."

"I do," he said. "And more. We've been through so much together, have seen the best and the worst of each other, and you're the best friend I've ever had. I've missed our friendship, missed all the little things we used to do together. And when I was on that moon, alone day after day, it was only the hope of seeing you again that got me through."

He left the window and walked over to a wooden cabinet. Upon it were a few carvings and he carefully picked up one. Then he returned to the window and showed it to Kathryn.

"This is what I made all those weeks I was there."

It was a beautifully carved bust of herself.

"Oh Chakotay..." Kathryn said, reaching out and touching the mirror of her face.

"I did it from memory," he told her, "and I made it with love."

Kathryn looked up at him and they gazed deep into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Kathryn," he said, "I've always loved you, and I always will."

Kathryn smiled and a tear trickled down her cheek. "Then if you still love me and I still love you, I suggest we do something about it."

Chakotay put the bust down on the windowsill and closed the gap between them. "Any ideas?"

Kathryn slipped her arms around his neck and gently kissed his lips. "This, for starters."

Chakotay smiled happily, wrapped his arms around her, and then kissed her in return.

THE END