September 2374
Chakotay and Kathryn's house was nestled back in the woods not far from where they'd been deposited on the planet in their stasis pods. The pods had been recycled ages ago. The beige and grey Starfleet shelter that they had used when they first arrived had also been torn down wall by wall. It was replaced by a sturdy log cabin that stood up to the plasma storms ten times better than the shelter ever did. Kathryn had an office, Chakotay had a wood shop, and they each had a huge bedroom. In addition, he had built a living room, dining room, full kitchen, a safe room under the house for the especially violent plasma storms, and a sun room but the giant wraparound porch was the best part of the house. They had two calendars in the kitchen now. One for the New Earth year but they still measured anniversaries and birthdays by Old Earth time. The New Earth year was a few months shorter and neither of them wanted to get older any quicker than they had to.
Tonight was the second anniversary of their landing. It was winter time and the sun was setting. Though winter rarely got below 10°C, it promised to be a crisp night and Kathryn and Chakotay shared a blanket as they sat on the porch swing, one of the many pieces of furniture Chakotay had built. He had an arm around Kathryn while she leaned lazily back into his shoulder and cradled a cup of hot cocoa between both hands to keep them warm. She still liked her coffee, of course, but they'd had cocoa last New Year's and it seemed like a good tradition.
That day of the year, for Kathryn, was becoming a time for reflection. Last year was when she finally had put down all ideas of getting off the planet. She thought of Voyager and hoped they were closer to home. Tuvok would see to it. It had been her last request to him.
She looked at Chakotay and smiled at the quiet happiness on his face as the setting sun lit up his features. She was happy too. Their life was a good one and with his companionship she never felt lonely. If it had been anyone else stranded with her, the last two years would have been much more difficult. He had his eyes closed, enjoying the last warm rays before the sun dipped below the horizon.
She thought about how good he looked to her: his etched facial features, his strong body, the hint of dimple peeking out in his half smile. She breathed in a little deeper thinking about the time a few weeks ago when she'd snuck a peek at him coming out of the river with nothing on. He certainly was attractive and on top of that her best friend. So what was the problem?
What if Voyager comes back? It's been two years. They're not coming back. You knew that last year. What about Mark? You haven't thought about him for awhile now and you know it. What if Chakotay doesn't still love me? Don't be a fool. He still looks at you the same way he always has no matter how distant you keep him. What if I don't love him? Now you are being a fool. Kathryn couldn't help but laugh inwardly a little as she allowed herself to see the last piece that was missing between them. She was finally ready to make it right.
"Chakotay?" she said.
"Mmm?" he opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at her.
"You told me a legend once, about an angry warrior..." It was the first time she'd brought it up since the story was told.
His smile grew even wider, understanding perfectly.
"Marry me?" he said, "and not because I'm your only choice?"
She nodded. He took in her glowing face for a moment before he kissed her, the first one they'd ever had in their four years together. They turned back to the sunset, Chakotay squeezing Kathryn a little closer and both of them enjoying the unblemished contentment. They considered themselves married from that moment on.
=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=
Tuvok laid down the padd he'd been reading and leaned back in his chair, thinking hard. He'd been sitting in his ready room reviewing the latest telemetry Voyager's scans had returned and it left him ill at ease. A few months ago he'd made the decision to skirt Borg space. He could not see the logic in taking the crew into such a dangerous expanse in spite of the added time to their journey, although now there was evidence the Borg were less of a threat than they used to be. He picked up the report again: yet another instance of a cube debris field. These were becoming more and more common. It appeared their old enemy had finally met its match. What worried Tuvok, however, was that he could not decide if a race more powerful than the Borg was a positive or negative thing for their crew.
It had been just over two years since Voyager had left Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay on the unknown planet. Shortly after they'd lost their command team, Tuvok had been nearly persuaded by Harry to go to the Vidiians for a potential cure for their virus but the opportunity to contact them had never come up. The crew had adjusted finally but the void left could still be felt. Tuvok had tried to run the ship as he thought Janeway would have. He showed faith in Tom Paris and Harry Kim, promoting them to First Officer and Chief of Security respectively, and B'Elanna Torres continued to prove herself as chief engineer, but Tuvok knew he tended to err on the safe side when Janeway would have taken risks. He wondered how close to home they'd be if she were still in command.
"Kim to Captain Tuvok."
"Go ahead."
"Can you come to the bridge, Captain? We're picking up a distress call."
"I am on my way, Lieutenant."
=Λ= =Λ= =Λ=
Tuvok walked onto the bridge and took his seat in the captain's chair next to Commander Paris.
"Been mostly quiet except for the call," said Tom.
"From what we can gather," said Harry, "it's an automated signal from a beacon orbiting a planet just a few light years from here."
"Have you tried hailing them?" asked Tuvok.
"A few times," said Tom. "No response."
"Try opening a direct channel," said Tuvok. "If they are in trouble they may not be able to answer hails."
"Aye, captain," replied Harry. "Channel open. Audio only." The crew jumped as a loud rumbling snorting sort of noise echoed over the bridge. They stuffed their fingers in their ears and Harry cut the transmission.
"What was that?" yelled Tom.
"I have no clue," answered Harry. "Should I turn the volume down and try again?"
"Yes," said Tuvok. "How long until we're in range to get a visual?"
"Only a few more seconds."
"Reopen the channel on screen when ready."
The viewer popped up with a muffled version of the rumbling but only a lime green mass could be seen. The bridge crew stared at the viewer perplexed. Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow. He seemed annoyed.
"Hello!" he said rather loudly. "May we be of assistance?" The rumbling ceased in a series of snorts and the obstruction began to move. To everyone's surprise, the mass backed off and a sweet faced alien with emerald eyes and five-lobed ears sat up and yawned. His lobes fanned out broadly as he stretched and ran his fingers through his lime green hair.
"What, oh!" he said, as he looked at the monitor startled, finally realizing someone was actually calling him. "You're answering our distress call!"
"Yes," said Tuvok, even more irritated. "I am Captain Tuvok. With whom am I speaking?"
"Lorrit. No rank or anything. Just Lorrit. Oh, I can't believe someone finally heard us!" he said excitedly. "It's been so long. Yes! Yes, you can help us! Let me go get my Tribunus. He'll be so pleased. Stay right there." Lorrit got up quickly but then turned around and came back to his monitor. "You won't tell him I was sleeping, will you?" Tom snickered. Tuvok huffed a little.
"I will not inform your Tribunus you were sleeping."
"Thank you! I'll just go get him then. Stay right there."
"Yes, Mr. Lorrit, go ahead."
Lorrit nodded quickly then finally left.
The viewer remained empty for quite some time.
"Do you think he got lost?" whispered Tom to Tuvok. Tuvok did not reply although he was considering ending the transmission and trying again on a different frequency, when suddenly the door burst open and Lorrit tumbled through, pointing at his monitor.
"See, I told you," he said to the much more dignified looking alien of the same species following behind with an irritated expression on his face. The new alien appeared to be wearing a uniform with several bars on the arm and had slightly more chiseled features than his subordinate, though with the same emerald eyes, lobed ears, and lime green hair. When he saw there was indeed someone on the viewer his expression cleared and he took a seat at the monitor.
"Hello," he said genially to Tuvok. "I'm glad to see Lorrit wasn't mistaken this time. He tends to fall asleep at his post and mix up dreams with reality. I trust he didn't keep you waiting too long while he looked for me?"
"We are in no hurry," said Tuvok.
"Ah, I see that he did," said the alien, casting a sidelong glance of disapproval at Lorrit. "Well, I apologize, and I hope any further interaction between us can go more smoothly."
Tuvok nodded.
"Good, good. Introductions are in order, I suppose. I am Krestic. I used to be Tribunus of a Zahoran freighter before we crashed here on this dismal little planet."
"I am Captain Tuvok, of the Federation starship Voyager. We received your distress call. How may we be of assistance?"
"Where do I begin?" said Krestic, letting out a big breath. "It all depends on what you can do."
"If you tell us your situation, Tribunus," said Tuvok, "we will be better able to assess what aid we can give you."
"Very well," said Krestic. "My crew and I were on route home when we were turned aside by a species called the Devore. We were forced to find a different route to our home world around Borg space. The trip proved too long for our little vessel and we were obliged to land here. Unfortunately our ship was damaged in the landing. Now we are seeking passage back home.
"Perhaps we can aid you in repairs," said Tuvok. "Our resources are limited but we will do what we can."
"That's impossible," replied Krestic. "We've been on this planet for three years. The ship was torn apart and reused long ago."
"I see. How many of you are there?"
"There are nine of us," he answered. "We would not be a burden. All of us have been raised on starships and have been groomed to work on them from a very young age, although there is always the odd one where the training doesn't stick," he added as he eyed Lorrit. "We would be willing to work off our passage and would replenish any resources we used once we reach our home world."
"How long of a journey is your planet from here?"
"I can hardly say without knowing your ship's capabilities, shall I transmit the coordinates to you?"
"Please do, Tribunus," said Tuvok. "I must speak with my senior staff before we can make a decision as to whether or not we can render the aid you require. If we find we cannot transport you, we may perhaps be able to replenish your supplies."
"Thank you, Captain. I look forward to hearing from you again."
"Tuvok out."
"Do you think they'll help us?" asked Lorrit after the pointy eared alien was off the viewer.
"I'm not sure," answered Krestic. "He didn't seem the friendliest of humanoids. Still, I'm glad this one was persistent enough to wake you up this time."
"I'm sorry, Tribunus," replied Lorrit, sheepishly. "It won't happen again."
"It will," sighed Krestic, resignedly. "I don't know where we went wrong with you Lorrit. Whed can stay awake longer than you and he's only a baby. If we're lucky, we'll be home soon and you won't have to worry about duties anymore."
"Do you think they have toilets like we do?" asked Lorrit. "I hope they don't make me scrub those."
"If you keep falling asleep, they may."