DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: Voyager and all its characters belong to Paramount Pictures; no infringement of copyright is intended. The story however belongs to me.
Written for Laura W for VAMB's Secret Summer Exchange 2017. She provided the first line for a J/C story, and I decided to follow up on an idea I'd been toying with for a while.
Once again I give my heartfelt thanks to Eydie Munroe for the quick and surprisingly painless beta. ;-)
Silver Lining
by Hester (hester4418)
"Don't let them see me!"
"Why not?"
Chakotay's lips travelled along her jaw line at a maddeningly slow pace, but she knew that once they reached that spot behind her ear, she wouldn't care anymore who did or didn't see her. Gathering her last shreds of conscious thought, she took his face in both hands and pushed him away. "Because this is Tom and B'Elanna's wedding! If anyone sees us, we'll be hogging all the attention!"
"The happy couple is long gone." Turning his head to kiss her palm, Chakotay slipped his hands behind her back and pulled her closer against him. "Everyone's just gorging themselves on the cake now before heading home and continuing the celebration in private." Ignoring her hold on him, he dipped his head forward to whisper against her lips, "which is exactly what I intend to do as soon as we can slip away."
Her resolve melted like ice under the Risean sun, her hands moving into his hair as he kissed her...
"Captain?" The startled voice of their resident Talaxian made them jump apart. Chakotay winced as he hit his head on a protruding shelf.
"We were just looking for coffee," Janeway hastily explained, hoping against hope that her hair didn't look as mussed as her first officer's.
Behind Neelix's back, Chakotay was already creeping toward the exit.
"But I think... I think the cake is just wonderful, and maybe if there's any left over, you could serve it for dessert tomorrow," she rambled on while her morale officer's grin spread wider and wider at having caught the captain and commander making out, in the galley of all places. "Anyway − goodnight, Neelix." She grabbed Chakotay's hand and he pulled her through the door, not letting her catch her breath until they were safely shut inside her quarters, where he proceeded to take her breath away entirely.
Captain Kathryn Janeway smiled faintly as the memory washed over her. She needn't have worried about stealing the limelight from Paris and Torres. The newlyweds may have been the first couple to tie the knot, but what with Ensign Harper's new baby and another two little Voyagers on the way, overt romance had become an almost everyday occurrence on the ship. No one had even batted an eye when, the next time she and Chakotay had come to the Mess Hall for an after-duty dinner, he'd kissed her on the cheek before taking his place across from her. Them becoming an item had been a forgone conclusion, it seemed, and a welcome one at that.
She sighed, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes. They'd been so happy for such a short time. Even when Torres had passed away and the truth of their existence had been revealed, she and Chakotay had still found consolation in each other. But now he was gone, and she was oh so very tired.
The ship rocked violently. She heard Kim and Seven exchanging words, felt Voyager shudder and shake beneath her. Grabbing the armrests of her chair, she willed her beloved ship to push through, to hold out just a little longer. At the very least, they needed to deploy the probe with their logs, so that their legacy would be preserved.
Gradually, the shaking subsided, and she felt a calmness spread in her chest. She'd done the right thing. They'd make it home. Everything would be alright.
And then she felt nothing at all.
-==/\==-
Kathryn Janeway was leaning against the bridge railing, her relaxed posture belying the tense anticipation felt throughout the room. After almost twelve hours of speeding toward the source of a distress call, Voyager had almost reached the stricken vessel's last known coordinates. "Drop to impulse. Are the rescue teams ready? Bridge to Sickbay, stand by for casualties."
"In visual range," Tuvok's calm voice informed her.
"On screen," she ordered, and the view shifted to show a cloud of silver globules floating in space. "Where's the ship?"
"No sign of it," Harry stated, his confusion obvious.
Chakotay stared. "That debris, that couldn't be all that's left."
"I'm detecting residual deuterium, anti-neutrons, traces of dichromates. If it was a vessel, it isn't anymore," Tuvok supplied.
"Scan for life signs, escape pods." She knew the chance was slim, but they had to try.
Tuvok dashed her hopes with a single word. "None."
She suppressed a sigh and turned away, taking her seat again. "Make a note in the ship's record. We received a distress call at oh nine hundred hours. Arrived at the vessel's last known coordinates at twenty one twenty. The ship was destroyed. Cause unknown. No survivors." After pausing for a beat to let the finality of the situation sink in, she added, "Mister Paris, resume course."
"Aye, Captain," came the pilot's somber reply.
She was still caught up in paying silent tribute to the unfortunate crew and their unknown vessel when Harry's voice roused her.
"Captain, I think I've found something!"
"What is it, Mr. Kim?"
"I'm not sure." He tapped several buttons and his eyes widened in shock. "Whatever it is, it's emitting a Federation signature. Wait!" he called as excited gasps could be heard throughout the bridge. "The signature is not just Federation. It's Voyager!"
In the sudden silence, the regular beeps from various consoles sounded shrill and intrusive.
"Voyager?" Kathryn whispered, sharing an incredulous look with her first officer.
"Confirmed," Tuvok's calm baritone rose above the silence. "The signal originates from an object within the debris cloud. It appears to be a probe of some kind."
"Beam it aboard," Kathryn decided, "and erect a Level 4 containment field around it. We don't know what destroyed that ship, and I don't want to take any chances."
Tense seconds ensued until Harry confirmed the probe's arrival in the cargo bay.
"Hold position," Kathryn ordered, already moving toward the turbolift. "Commander Chakotay, you have the bridge. Start analyzing that debris cloud; see if there's anything else hidden inside. And have Lieutenant Torres meet me in the cargo bay." The lift door closed on her last words as the rest of the bridge crew jumped into action.
-==/\==-
The next day, the senior staff quietly filed into the briefing room. By now, several departments had been involved in their search for answers, and rumors had started spreading fast. From the conversations Kathryn had overheard in the corridors, some of them were very close to the truth. And yet there were some facts which only she possessed, because she was the only one so far who'd had access to the data the probe carried. The knowledge she'd gained was a heavy burden to bear, and she wasn't sure if sharing it would make it any lighter.
"What have we got so far?" she asked her opening question, as much to get everyone on the same page as to delay what she knew she must do.
Uncomfortable glances passed around the room. It was Tuvok who spoke first. "We beamed some of the debris aboard for closer inspection. My analysis revealed high concentrations of deuterium, hydrogen sulphate and dichromates. Because of the unusual composition of elements, I asked the Doctor to confirm my findings." He looked at the EMH, passing the ball to him.
The Doctor nodded, his demeanor uncharacteristically somber. "The only possible conclusion is that we're looking at the remains of a silver blood vessel."
"A duplicate Voyager."
He nodded again. "Quite possibly."
Kathryn had meant to convey a fact, not a question, but realized that not everyone might be ready to accept this most obvious explanation.
Sure enough, Tom spoke up. "We left the Demon planet almost a year ago," he objected. "There was no ship there then. Besides, this vessel that was destroyed − they were ahead of us, not behind. So why should it be a duplicate Voyager? For all we know, there could be other Demon planets in the Delta Quadrant, and their inhabitants might have built a ship or two."
"We'll come to that in a moment," Kathryn interjected, knowing she couldn't delay the inevitable for much longer. Yet there were another couple of questions allowing her to stall. "Is there a way to distinguish between remains of the vessel and remains of the crew?"
Neelix grimaced, but to Kathryn the question was important, no matter how gruesome the picture it painted.
"No, Captain," the Doctor dashed her vague hopes. "Commander Tuvok took samples from different sections of the debris cloud, and they all check out exactly the same. Once the silver blood returns to its original state, there's no telling what it represented before."
"Couldn't we restore them?" Harry asked. "I mean, collect all the silver blood and just let the duplication process happen again?"
Chakotay shifted in his chair. Looking over, Kathryn noted how uncomfortable he seemed with the idea, and privately she had to agree. It was one thing to allow a clone of yourself to exist on a remote planet with a toxic atmosphere where the chance for visitors, and thus interaction with other species, was slim at best. Yet it was quite a different matter to think of a duplicate Voyager travelling through roughly the same territory as the original. The potential for disastrous misunderstandings would be endless. In fact, they'd been very lucky so far that the rogue ship hadn't caused any trouble.
She was about to voice her concerns when the Doctor spoke up again. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
"Why not?" Tom and Harry asked in unison.
"I'm not sure yet why or how, but all the samples of silver blood that I examined were inert," the EMH explained. Seeing Neelix' confused look, he clarified, "That means that the substance lost its mimetic properties. Furthermore, molecular cohesion was completely lacking. At this point, I can only speculate as to the reasons. It's possible that the explosion that destroyed the ship had detrimental side-effects."
"Or the molecular degradation was what caused the ship to destabilize," Kathryn interjected quietly. All eyes turned to her.
"That would be another, equally viable possibility," the Doctor conceded. "Captain, do you have additional information that corroborates either theory?"
She nodded grimly. "The probe carried a vast amount of data. Most of it turned out to be the complete ship's database of the destroyed vessel. Other files contain log entries by the crew, both official and private. But there was one message that was supposed to be viewed first, a sort of introduction if you will. I'm going to play that message for you in a minute."
She rose and circled around the table, looking at each of her senior officers in turn. "What you're about to see may disturb you." Arriving at the monitor set into the rear bulkhead, she tapped a button to start the playback she'd prepared beforehand.
Voyager's ready room came into view and, sitting behind her desk, was Captain Janeway. Shocked gasps could be heard around the table as the captain's appearance registered. Her face was blistered, one eye almost swollen shut, her skin a sickly yellowish-silver hue. She looked infinitely tired, slumped in her chair, heavy-lidded eyes barely meeting the camera. When she spoke, her voice was low and gravelly. "To whoever may find this message: I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager." She interrupted herself, giving a harsh laugh. "No, actually I'm a duplicate of the real Captain Janeway, and my ship is a duplicate of the original Voyager. My crew and I hail from a Demon-class planet deep within the Delta Quadrant, while for the crew whose images we represent, home is on the other side of the galaxy, in the Alpha Quadrant." She breathed deeply, visibly gathering her strength before continuing. "You can find out all about us and how we came to be from the data we're storing in this probe. This is our legacy, for I fear we will not survive much longer. We're attempting to return home, but our vessel is failing. Most of the crew are already gone." She straightened, pulling herself up into a commanding pose for one last time. "We may only have existed for a year, but our achievements are varied and plenty. Astrometrics and the science labs charted tens of thousands of lightyears and collected enough readings and samples to keep a group of analysts busy for years to come. We've made friends on many planets, and received generous help in many forms. Granted, some encounters were less than pleasant, but on the whole we feel very fortunate. My only regret is that we'll never get to see Earth, the planet that fuelled our hopes and dreams for many months. Only now we know that those dreams weren't ours to lay claim to." She paused again.
In the briefing room, Kathryn swallowed painfully. She'd watched the message twice over, so she knew what was to come, yet seeing herself make this last, desperate speech tore her heart out.
The room was deathly quiet as everyone waited for the duplicate Janeway to continue.
On the viewscreen, the silver blood captain closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her gaze had a piercing intensity that carried through time and space. "Whoever you are, I hope that you value knowledge and exploration as much as we do. My hope is that you can take this data home to your people, or alternatively deliver it to one of the worlds that we passed on our journey. May our legacy live on long after we're gone. Godspeed." She nodded once, and then the screen turned black.
No one spoke. Kathryn slowly returned to her chair. Once she was seated, she cleared her throat. "There was a note appended to this message, stating that I−" She stopped, momentarily unable to continue. Only after taking a few deep breaths and swallowing the tears that threatened to cloud her vision could she go on explaining, "that she did not survive long enough to see the probe launched. The last Acting Captain was, to my knowledge, Mr. Kim."
She tipped her head to him, hoping to convey her gratitude about his dedication − past, present and in parallel existences. Harry's face was grim, and she thought she could guess why. He and Tom had been the first sentient individuals to be duplicated, so in a way they'd been the catalyst for the silver blood crew's coming into existence. It would be no surprise if he felt responsible for their dire fate.
And yet the true burden of responsibility fell to her. It had been her suggestion to let the silver blood duplicate all of Voyager's inhabitants. She should have anticipated that, equipped with their feelings and memories, the other crew would eventually decide to seek Earth themselves.
"I still don't understand," Tom's voice interrupted her bleak musings. "How could they be ahead of us, despite having left the Demon planet only after we were gone? And how come we've never been greeted by 'Oh, how nice of you to come back!' on any of the planets we stopped at?"
"Those are only two of the questions we need answers to," Kathryn replied, pulling herself together. "As I stated before, the probe contained the other Voyager's complete database, as well as every log the crew ever filed." She swiveled her chair to face her chief of operations. "Ensign Kim, I want you to analyze the probe's data and filter out all the entries that were changed or created after we left the Demon planet. Then forward all the log entries to the corresponding people on this ship." She turned, facing Chakotay instead. "Commander, please adjust the duty roster to skeleton shifts for the next couple of days. I want each and every member of this crew to go through their counterparts' logs with a fine-tooth comb, noting everything that can help us understand how they came to be here, and what caused the silver blood vessel to disintegrate."
"I'll see to it that everyone knows what to look for and report it accordingly," Chakotay nodded.
"Anything could be important," Kathryn emphasized. "Meanwhile, we'll remain at full stop until our investigation is complete. Lieutenant Paris, please work with Commander Tuvok to identify a safe hiding place for the time being, as close to the debris cloud as possible. I'd like to lay low while we're all busy reading."
"Aye, Captain," Tom acknowledged somberly.
"What about the silver blood?" Seven asked.
The reply came from Tuvok. "The cloud is already spreading. As true Voyagers, a space burial − so to speak − seems fitting."
"But that's a waste of resources," the ex-Borg objected. "We first happened upon the Demon planet in our search for deuterium. Sooner or later we will need to replenish our supplies again. Why waste the chance now?"
"Because those were people," Chakotay explained.
"They were not," Seven countered immediately. "They were biomimetic copies of people, but they were not actual lifeforms as such."
"They had individual sentience," B'Elanna spoke up for the first time during the meeting. "Using their remains in that way would be like burning dead bodies for fuel."
"I agree," Kathryn said in a tightly controlled voice before Seven could voice another objection. This was not an argument she wanted to have now. When no one else spoke, she grasped the padd with her notes and turned to leave. "Dismissed."
-==/\==-
Kathryn's eyes hurt. She'd reviewed her counterpart's mission reports, captain's logs and private logs all throughout her shift. They started about two weeks after the original Voyager had left the Demon planet, almost exactly one year earlier.
What startled her at first was that there was no mention of the other ship at all, and seemingly no awareness of the planetside crew being of silver blood origin. Apparently the duplicate Voyager had come into existence roughly two days after her own ship's departure. The bridge level had appeared in the silver blood pool that had engulfed the original ship, and had grown upwards deck by deck, day by day. Within less than two weeks, the vessel had emerged fully and the crew had 'returned' to their living quarters, assuming that they'd been forced to abandon ship after it had 'sunk' − a fate that had almost befallen the original Voyager if her captain hadn't made a deal with the silver blood beings. No record of that incident remained though, and so the ship and crew had simply 'resumed' their voyage home, to Earth − unaware that they were actually leaving their true home behind.
After several hours, Kathryn had made it through three months' worth of logs and reports, and was awed by the silver bloods' achievements. To all appearances, her own duplicate was identical down to the most minute details. If she had suffered from amnesia and had been presented with these records, she'd have sworn that they'd been made by herself, and she would have stood by any and all decisions that her counterpart had made.
She also now understood why the two ships had never crossed paths. Early into her journey, the silver blood Voyager had happened upon an unstable wormhole that suddenly appeared off to starboard and pulled the ship into its gravitational well. Rather than fight the energy forces at play, they'd ridden the currents so that the unforeseen passage caused only minor damage. Once they'd emerged on the other side of the aperture, to their joy they'd found themselves a whopping thirty thousand lightyears closer to home, and well ahead of Kathryn's own ship. She had mixed feelings at the discovery − what if the duplicates had actually made their way to Earth and usurped everyone's places? And yet she couldn't help feeling sad about the silver blood crew's untimely demise.
"If only we could have joined forces," she wistfully said to herself, leaning back in her chair and closing her tired eyes. Two Voyagers helping each other out with doubled firepower, forming a Federation alliance in the Delta Quadrant. Two crews with enormous potential for bouncing ideas off of each other and coming up with unconventional yet ingenious ideas and solutions. Three years ago she'd had the briefest of glimpses into the potential of two Janeways working in tandem, and she'd often wished that the destruction of one of the deadlocked Voyagers could have been avoided. Now, yet another twist of fate had again robbed her of a similar chance.
However, she also couldn't help feeling envious of the other ship. While her own crew had opposed Species 8472, the Borg, and countless others, defying the odds time and again simply by staying alive through skirmish after skirmish, their silver blood counterparts seemed to have been favored by fortune. Most of the logs spoke of agreeable first contacts, successful trade negotiations and smooth sailing, with very few bumps along the road. Neelix' efforts as morale officer seemed hardly required. Also, Kathryn's counterpart appeared happy and relaxed in so many of her recordings that at times she hardly recognized herself.
Sighing, she rose and crossed to the replicator to request another cup of coffee. Sipping slowly, she stared out the ready room window at the blackness beyond. Different-sized globules of the silvery once-biomimetic substance still floated nearby. Their momentum was slow, which indicated that the ship had dissolved rather than gone out with a big explosion. It was difficult to imagine that only a few days ago she would have seen another Voyager hovering there, as if a large mirror had been hung into their path.
She'd purposely started her search for answers chronologically, hoping to gain a better understanding of the duplicate ship and crew, and particularly their captain, by following their path as they'd travelled it. Now though, she suddenly felt gripped by a need to tackle the matter from a different angle, to go backwards from the point the ship had been destroyed, and to understand what had led to this catastrophe. After all, there was a possibility that whatever had caused the silver blood to disintegrate could also harm the original ship and crew.
With renewed purpose, Kathryn returned to her desk and called up the latest log entry. It was voice-only.
"Acting Captain's log, supplemental," Harry Kim's brittle voice sounded from the speakers. "I don't know how long we can still hold out. Voyager is falling apart, but it hardly matters as there are only a handful of crew left. Neelix is tending to them. Seven of Nine is preparing the message buoy as I speak, and we hope that someone will find it and learn of our experiences. We've also send out a distress call, but I'm not even sure if it really went out before the deflector dish destabilized. All we have left is hope, but it's wearing thinner and thinner." The message cut off.
Kathryn swallowed hard. The timestamp on the recording was less than an hour before Voyager had arrived at the site of the debris cloud. That they'd been so close, yet unable to help was a sobering thought. Searching further, she mentally prepared herself for the next messages. There were three more from Acting Captain Kim, the earliest a video recording made a week before. She pushed the playback button.
"Captain's log, supplemental." The silver blood Kim grimaced. "Actually, this is Acting Captain Kim's first log entry. I'm sorry to report that we lost Captain Janeway at fifteen oh two hundred hours today. It has been a privilege and an honor to serve with her, and for as long as I live I shall endeavor to honor her legacy and to fulfill the mission she left me − to get this crew home." He stared earnestly into the camera for a long moment before saying, "Computer, end log."
Kathryn breathed out slowly. Hearing her counterpart's death confirmed felt worse than she'd imagined, but there was no rush of tears, no despair at knowing that she'd failed to lead her crew all the way home. Instead, she felt immensely proud at how Harry Kim, erstwhile green, insecure Ensign Kim, had taken up the captain's mantle. She'd always known that he'd grow into a fine young man and a loyal, conscientious officer, and she'd rewarded his dedication by giving him more leeway in the execution of his duties as chief of operations. If she'd ever needed proof that he'd make a fine captain some day, his alter ego had spoken loud and clear to that end.
She quickly skipped through silver blood Janeway's entries, noting with detached interest how her appearance improved ever so slightly as she went back in time. The subject matter Janeway talked about was gruesome, long lists of dying crewmembers and degrading systems. Kathryn winced at every new name, faces swimming past her mind's eye, faces she had seen only this morning in the mess hall, or last night at Sandrine's. When Tom Paris' name came up among the casualties, she sighed. A little further back, the Doctor was reported as having gone offline due to the holographic emitters failing. Still earlier, Tuvok had fallen victim to the unstoppable molecular degradation.
She did a mental headcount, accounting for the fates of all her senior officers save B'Elanna and Chakotay. Feeling the irresistible need to know for certain, she inquired, "Computer, search the silver blood database for the recorded times of death of Lieutenant Torres and Commander Chakotay."
With a brief chirp, the computer complied, listing dry facts in two lines of text on her monitor.
Kathryn sat back, stunned. The given stardate meant that B'Elanna had been gone for almost seven weeks. Maybe her death had been unrelated to the silver blood degradation?
Chakotay's death had happened almost three weeks ago, and somehow she knew that he'd succumbed to the de-cohesion sickness.
Her console beeped, alerting her to the fact that her shift was over. She had no intention of abandoning her research for the night, but conceded that her eyes could use a few minutes of respite. Plus she'd be more comfortable in her quarters anyway. After shutting off her computer, she headed out to the bridge and the turbolift beyond.
-==/\==-
As soon as she made it back to the privacy of her cabin, Kathryn shed her uniform and put on comfortable pants and a loose shirt, the same kind of clothing that silver blood Janeway had favored for evenings at home, when she'd curled up on her couch to record her private logs. With a glass of wine at her fingertips, she called up the recovered database again. "Computer, search for log entries made by Captain Kathryn Janeway on Stardate 52548."
"There are two log entries made by Captain Kathryn Janeway on Stardate 52548," the computer replied.
Kathryn leaned forward. "Display list." One glance told her that her counterpart had recorded both an official and a private log that day. "Display Captain's log."
It was immediately obvious that at this point in time, the sickness that had befallen the other crew was still in an earlier stage. Janeway's cheeks and part of her forehead already showed signs of disease, but they looked scabbed-over rather than blistering. She looked somber as she spoke straight into the camera. "We lost Commander Chakotay today. As I told the crew, he was a fine Starfleet officer. Only moments before he lost consciousness, he again made his case for why we should return to the Demon planet instead of continuing our course for Earth. I'm afraid I didn't listen to him for far too long. I was convinced that we were strong enough to reach Earth, that that was where we belonged. I was wrong." She blinked, but her eyes remained dry, her posture restrained and immaculate. "Five minutes ago I gave the order to reverse course. I hope that we're still strong enough to reach home again." The screen went blank.
Kathryn reached for her wine and took a big gulp. Her hand was shaking as she set the glass back down. To anyone else, silver blood Janeway would have appeared calm and composed, the death of her second-in-command a lamentable event that needed to be recorded but would not affect her performance in any way. Kathryn, however, knew different. She was a good actress, and she'd learned over the years to always record her official logs as neutrally as possible, both as a way to shield herself and to minimize the potential for conflict with any reviewing admirals. Janeway's private log would tell the true story of how much Chakotay's death had affected her, and Kathryn braced herself for the anguish that she knew her counterpart must have felt at losing her closest friend and confidant.
"Computer, play Kathryn Janeway's private log from the same stardate," she instructed.
The image that greeted her was a far cry from the one she'd watched before. Janeway's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her makeup dissolved. She was still in uniform, but the jacket hung open limply, and her hair was disheveled as if she'd repeatedly run her hands through it. "I don't know what to say," she whispered, her eyes roaming aimlessly, looking anywhere but at the camera. "I've already put it into words earlier, but that was... clinical, for the brass, just another name to add to the numbers. I couldn't say anything about how much he meant to all of us, how much he will be missed. How much he meant to me." A sob escaped her, followed by a whimper, and it took a few moments before she was able to continue. "I might as well say it: Chakotay is gone. He died in my arms, quickly and unexpectedly. By the time the Doctor got to him, there was nothing he could do." She took a shaky breath. "At least he didn't suffer like B'Elanna."
Kathryn felt her own breath hitch, and her eyes were brimming with tears. Hearing Chakotay pronounced dead was indescribably worse than learning about 'her own' demise earlier.
"I don't know how I can go on without him," Janeway continued, her voice wavering again. "He was more than a first officer, a sounding board, and often my conscience. He was more than a friend − he was the other half of my being, my lover, and my soulmate." Tears choking her voice, she broke off and hid her face in her hands.
Kathryn paused the recording and sat stunned by the other woman's revelation, her own tears forgotten. Lovers. Despite the three months worth of logs she'd already reviewed, nothing had prepared her for this turn of events. There'd been no indication at all that the silver blood command team shared anything more than the close friendship she and her own Chakotay enjoyed.
After taking another gulp of her wine, she resumed her viewing.
After quietly sobbing for a while, Janeway finally wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, again lifting her darkly hooded eyes to the camera. "I made the mistake of clinging too long to an idea of home that wasn't meant for us. Chakotay tried to make me see reason, but only after he passed away did I see the error of my ways. We're going home." Here the log ended.
In a daze, Kathryn emptied her glass and then replayed parts of the recording, pausing it at the same place as before to go for a refill. As she was sitting back down, the chime sounded. Startled out of her thoughts, she looked toward the door. "Who is it?"
"Chakotay," came the cheerful reply.
Ten minutes ago she would have told him to go away, that she wanted to be alone with her counterpart's logs. Now though, she felt a sudden need to see him, to make sure that he was all right and not wasting away from some unknown illness.
"Come in," she called, belatedly realizing how shook up she must look.
Sure enough, Chakotay's smile faded as soon as he caught sight of her. "Kathryn, what's wrong?" Then he noticed the still image displayed on her computer screen. "Oh, I see. She just told you somebody died, didn't she?"
Kathryn could only nod, her throat tight.
"Who was it?" Chakotay asked gently.
Her eyes filled with fresh tears. Instead of replying, she rose and threw her arms around him.
He caught on quickly and hugged her back, holding on as she started to cry in earnest. "I found one about B'Elanna. She was the first to go, before they even knew what caused their problems. I reacted much the same as you did. It was worse than realizing that I..."
He hesitated and she pulled back, looking at him through her tears.
"That I was one of the early casualties as well," he finished. "Although the worst part of that was knowing that I failed in my promise and left you alone."
With a start, she realized that if he knew about his counterpart's death, he'd likely have found out about 'them' as well. "Is that why you came here just now?"
"No." He looked around, his gaze lingering on the lone glass of wine next to her computer. "You forgot about our dinner date, didn't you?"
"Oh. Yes, I suppose I did." The fact that he'd said 'date' dimly registered, but she was more concerned with making amends for her forgetfulness. "I'm sorry. What would you like? I dug out an old recipe of my Aunt Martha's the other day and −"
"That's okay, we can worry about food in a bit." He nodded toward her computer screen where the image of a distraught Janeway was still visible. "What were you watching?"
Kathryn swallowed. "Stardate 52548."
"I see."
She waited for him to say more, to acknowledge the significance of the date, but he only continued staring at the screen, apparently lost in thought. "Would you like to see it?" she asked on impulse.
Thoughtful brown eyes met hers again. "I'll admit that I'm curious. It's not everyday that one gets to hear one's own eulogy, if I may be so bold as to guess that that's what this is. But if you think it's too private..."
"Oh, it's very private," she confessed, her resolve strengthening with every word. "But I think you have a right to see it."
"Alright then. But only if you watch it with me."
She nodded, then extricated herself from his arms. Together they settled on her couch and she instructed the computer to play the log from the start.
Chakotay let out a small gasp when he first saw Janeway's disheveled appearance and the despair in her eyes. Reaching out to grasp Kathryn's hand, he gave her fingers a hard squeeze.
In silence they watched the other woman pour out her grief. When she declared her love for the deceased Chakotay, Kathryn felt the hand holding hers tremble.
She couldn't meet his eyes when the recoding ended and Chakotay sat motionless, digesting what he'd just seen.
Finally she worked up the courage to ask, "Am I making that same mistake? Am I clinging to an idea that we'll − realistically − never be able to see turn into reality?"
"No," he replied immediately. "Reality may not turn out quite the way we want it to, but the dream of getting home is real alright. If it weren't, a number of people would've opted to stay behind by now − with the 37s, or on any of the more hospitable planets we stopped at over time. No one did, and that's a fact that should speak for itself. We all believe in the same idea that you do." Then he squeezed her hand again. "I'd like to show you something as well."
"Another silver blood log? I'm not sure I feel up to that right now."
"From happier times, I promise."
She finally looked at him and found him smiling sadly despite his words of encouragement. With a nod, she gave him permission to proceed.
"Computer, display Commander Chakotay's personal log, Stardate 52347."
The scene changed to Chakotay's quarters, with him reclining on the couch. "Chakotay's personal log, Stardate 52347.3," he began, contemplating the stars as he looked out the viewport. "I've been thinking. Personal logs are always seen as a diary of sorts, intended only for the use of the individual recording them. But after those individuals are gone, what happens to them? Sometimes the family will seize them, I suppose, but I imagine that most logs will end up in the Fleet archives, under lock and key for the next hundred or so years. And after that?" He swiveled to face the camera. "And then I thought, what if a hundred, two hundred years from now someone researches Voyager and digs into the personal lives of her crew? They'd want to know more than the brief recaps of shore leave spots visited or the occasional mention of personal problems." Smiling, he declared, "So, dear curious watcher from the future, I'm going to tell you a series of stories. 'Voyager stories' that will hopefully give you a bit more background on all of us who call this ship their home."
Kathryn turned to Chakotay. "What−"
"Just wait," he shushed her.
Silver blood Chakotay had just opened his mouth to begin his tale, when the sound of the door opening and closing could be heard off-screen. Momentarily distracted, he looked up and his smile widened. "You're early."
"I missed you."
Kathryn started as she recognized her own voice, albeit with an undertone she could not remember ever using aboard Voyager. It had a sultry, smoky quality, the kind of lilt she usually reserved for intimate encounters. Then Janeway came into view, plopping herself down on the couch beside Chakotay and leaning over for a long kiss. "What are you doing?"
"Recording stories for eager young Starfleet historians," he replied, grinning at her disbelieving expression. "I figured it couldn't hurt to spice up the records with a few personal stories. Regular logs are often so dull and technical."
Janeway raised an eyebrow. "You think? And what are you going to tell them?"
"For starters, I'm going to tell them about you." He looped an arm around her shoulders and hauled her closer, ignoring her laughing protest. "Meet Kathryn," he spoke the camera but then turned to regard her with a loving smile. "The most beautiful woman on this ship, and the love of my life."
Janeway's expression softened and her hand came up to cup his cheek. "Oh, Chakotay..." She leaned in to kiss him again.
The kiss quickly deepened as his hands moved over her body, eliciting groans of pleasure. Without loosing contact, she pushed him back onto the couch, stretching her own body out on top of his. The scene was about to become decidedly more steamy when Chakotay freed his lips. "Um, Kathryn..."
"What?" she purred while lifting herself just enough to pull down his jacket zipper.
He nodded toward the camera. "They're still watching."
She followed his gaze, a lascivious smile hovering around her lips. "You're right, can't have that." Bracing herself on his chest with one hand, she reached out with the other. "Sorry, folks, but this conversation is about to become very private." One last smirk, and the picture turned black.
Chakotay cleared his throat. "Earlier, when I first found this, I wasn't sure whether to show it to you. Of course I knew that sooner or later you were bound to stumble on something similar, or at least so I assume. But then..."
Kathryn looked up, understanding his intent. "Happier times."
"Yes. No matter where fate took them, I think it's safe to say that, for a time at least, they were happy."
"Undoubtedly." She turned his hand over in her lap, pretending to examine it closely while she gathered her thoughts. "Do you know if... if the crew knew?"
"About them? I honestly haven't a clue. He didn't say anything about keeping it secret, but he also didn't mention any public outings." He paused briefly. "But I know when it started."
Kathryn debated with herself whether she wanted to leave further discoveries to the perusal of her own counterpart's logs, but curiosity quickly won out. "When?"
"Four months ago. Right after Tom and B'Elanna asked for her permission to get married."
"Four months?!" Kathryn couldn't help the surprised exclamation that escaped her. She'd assumed the relationship to be fairly recent, probably not much older than Torres' and Paris' wedding which she'd found as having taken place two months ago. "As far as I can tell, our Tom and B'Elanna are nowhere close to even thinking about getting married," she added lamely, knowing full well that the comparison was mute.
Chakotay only shrugged, wisely keeping quiet.
"How did you manage to read all those logs so quickly?" Kathryn wanted to know, grasping for a way to change the subject.
Chakotay shrugged again. "Actually, I still have quite a number to go through. I started backwards at first, but ended up skipping around."
Kathryn nodded, recognizing a pattern similar to her own investigation. Some matters simply took priority over the linear approach. "I went through their first three months of mission logs today. They were quite lucky − found a wormhole early on that catapulted them way ahead of us into an incredibly peaceful region of space. They logged more friendly encounters in a month than we had in the past half year." Blowing out a breath, she continued. "This'll sound petty, but at one point I felt so jealous because of all the hardships this Voyager had to endure while that second-hand copy enjoyed smooth sailing all the way! No wonder they were happy!" She spat the last word, finally airing the frustration she'd bottled up earlier.
"We didn't fare so badly," Chakotay ventured. "After all, we recently shaved fifteen years off our journey with the transwarp coil we acquired. That's almost as good as their wormhole."
"That's true," she conceded, "but on the whole, they seem to have had a far easier year than we did. And if we'd just stayed a little longer on the Demon planet, or delayed our journey for another day or two at one of the next stops, it could've been us finding that wormhole. We could have sidestepped The Void, Species 8472, even the Devore!"
Chakotay didn't reply and Kathryn moved from her chair, feeling a sudden need to pace. Seeing the silver blood command team so intimately connected had torn at her heartstrings, but she was too worked up face that matter yet.
"Don't you feel cheated somehow?" she pressed on. "They lived our lives, a part of our lives that we'll never have."
Chakotay stood, blocking her way. "When you look at her, what do you see?"
She shrugged. "I see... me. A different me, but still me. Kathryn Janeway, Captain of Voyager."
He fixated her with his gaze "When I look at him, I see him. He may look like me, and think like me, but he never was me. He made his own choices and had his own regrets. He's... like my twin brother. Identical, yet not the same."
Again, she was reminded of how she'd stood face-to-face with herself, three years ago. She'd had no trouble then to accept the other Janeway as a different person, even though circumstance only set them apart by a few hours. Here, the 'split' had occurred a year ago, more than enough for the biomimetic crew to develop their own personality traits based on differing experiences. And yet Kathryn couldn't quite differentiate between silver blood Janeway and herself. She seemed too close, too identical in her phrasing of reports, or in the way she held her coffee cup, leaning back in her chair while dictating a captain's log. At the same time she'd apparently led a quite different personal life, one that involved parameters which Kathryn had only ever theorized about in the privacy of her own mind.
Chakotay was still waiting for her answer and she sighed, knowing that he had a point. She had no right to begrudge the other woman her happiness, nor should she lament the fact that silver blood Voyager had gotten a lucky string of breaks when the original had had to trudge on through hostile territory.
"Why do you always have to be right?" she challenged, tempering her belligerent undertone with the beginnings of a smile.
Chakotay remained serious. "I'm not always right, and you know that. But I think we make a pretty good team when it comes to identifying what's right and what's wrong."
"We do. Oh yes, we do," she couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly.
He moved closer, close enough for her to touch if she chose to. "Their motivation was the same as ours. And with the star charts they constructed, and their data on mineral deposits and alien species, we'll have an easier time moving ahead for a while."
"I hope so." She knew there was an additional meaning hidden in his words − with the new info gained from the other ship, they'd be able to avoid hostile encounters and save precious time otherwise spent searching for much needed resources. They'd have time to breathe and actually relax. Maybe they'd even have time to be happy.
Kathryn placed her hand on Chakotay's chest in a gesture she'd used time and again before, but which seemed significantly more intimate now. "I know what you're saying, but I can't think about that yet. In a few days, once we know more... Okay?"
He grasped her hand and pressed it lightly, then gently let it drop to her side. "Okay."
She'd expected a resigned smile, maybe even a sigh at her obvious reluctance to talk about the silver blood command team's relationship. His easy acceptance of her 'later' was unexpected, and it strengthened her resolve to actually follow up on her promise as soon as she felt up to it.
By mutual consent they opted for a light dinner of soup and salad and passed the meal with nonconsequential chatter. Soon afterwards, Chakotay excused himself and left, and for once Kathryn didn't mind cutting their time together short. She downloaded all of silver blood Janeway's logs to a padd and sat up in bed reading for hours. Only when the padd dropped from her hand did she finally fall into a fitful sleep, dreaming of times and places seen through another Janeway's eyes.
-==/\==-
Two days later at the senior staff meeting, everyone looked more than a little bleary-eyed. Kathryn knew that she too sported dark circles under her eyes, but getting through the logs had been more important than catching a proper night's sleep. From the looks around the table, the other officers had thought alike.
Kathryn started by giving a brief overview of the silver blood Voyager's journey, highlighting several noteworthy encounters with alien species. "They took a gamble on an unstable wormhole and it paid off," she explained, calling up a star chart on the wall monitor. "And they also made some other improvements along the way." She motioned for B'Elanna to continue.
"Five months ago, they encountered the Kayziar," the chief engineer began. "Their level of technological development is largely equal to ours, and their starships even follow comparable design principles. Due to the similarities, a trade was arranged: the specs for the Delta Flyer against the specs for an enhanced warp drive."
"But I thought Starfleet forbid trade of technology?" Neelix inquired, frowning.
"True, but not applicable in this case," Kathryn said. "The crucial point was that the Kayziar already possessed all the technology needed for building a craft like the Flyer. It was mainly the design that was new to them."
"And in turn, Voyager got warp drive specs that were much more efficient than our current build," B'Elanna continued. "The new drive uses a different type of warp field generator that allows for a much higher velocity at reduced strain to the ship." Her cheeks glowed with excitement. "If they'd maintained their course and speed, they'd have been home in about two years from now."
"I'm sure we've all in some fashion heard about what went wrong then," Kathryn cut in, knowing that she was dampening the mood but wanting to get to the gist of the matter. "The subspace radiation that was supposed to be harmless turned out to be deadly destabilizing for their silver blood bodies. Once the first person died, they discovered their true origins and eventually decided to turn back. Unfortunately they couldn't reach their homeworld before the effects of the radiation destroyed their ship and the rest of the crew." She paused for a moment, remembering the probe's 'intro' message. "However, their legacy will live on through their records − and also through us, who will continue to strive for the goal that drove them on just as much as it does us." Solemn nods around the table followed her words. "Since the Doctor confirmed that no part of the debris cloud retains any biomimetic properties, Commander Chakotay and I have decided to simply let the cloud disperse. There will be a memorial service for the crew tonight at 1900 hours."
Chakotay had suggested the service, arguing that he'd heard many crew members talking about their duplicates as if they considered them family, or even parts of themselves. In essence, the silver blood crew could even be said to have been part of Starfleet. Therefore they should be afforded the same honor as any Starfleet officer lost in the line of duty. After only a very short deliberation, Kathryn had agreed.
"So," Neelix spoke up, checking to see if it was okay to change the subject. Seeing the captain's nod, he asked, "What about that miracle warp drive of theirs? It should be compatible to ours, shouldn't it? And since we're made of actual flesh and blood, the radiation should be as harmless as they believed it to be."
"We've already looked into that," B'Elanna replied. "And yes, it should be one hundred percent compatible. However, there's a catch." She looked to Seven of Nine.
The former Borg drone took up the cue. "The Kayziar are known to the Borg as Species 371. Upon discovery, they were deemed unsuitable for assimilation due to a rare substance used in all their technological designs. A substance that, to the best of the Borg's knowledge, exists only on the Kayziar homeworld."
"Let me guess," Harry groaned. "That substance is an integral part of the drive. And we don't have any of it."
"Riji, as they call it, is indeed needed for the drive to function," Seven confirmed, "albeit only in very small quantities."
Looks of defeat passed around the table, but then Harry perked up again. "Well, they used the drive, didn't they? And they were planning on using it for another two years, so they must have had a supply of this riji, however small. What are the chances that it survived the destruction of the ship?"
Kathryn immediately warmed to the idea. "To our scanners, it would have registered as 'unknown', if at all. Seven, with your Borg knowledge, can you calibrate the scanners to search for riji?"
"Of course," the younger woman replied, a touch of indignation coloring her voice.
Kathryn wondered briefly whether the tone was due to Seven perceiving doubts in her abilities or chastising herself for not having suggested the same idea earlier, but she quickly brushed the thought aside. "Do it," she said. "Anything else?"
No one spoke up, so everyone filed out of the room shortly afterwards.
-==/\==-
The scanning operation proved to be an unexpectedly quick and successful endeavor. Only three hours after Seven and Harry had recalibrated the sensors, half a ton of riji had been extracted from the debris cloud and stored safely in a secure container in Cargo Bay Two. Seven and B'Elanna estimated that once they succeeded in recreating the enhanced warp drive from the Kayziar specs, the amount of riji they'd managed to harvest would keep the drive operational for at least a year and a half. Hopes were that Voyager would be able to reach the Kayziar homeworld within that time, so that their supply of riji could then be restocked.
There still remained much to do though, before that plan could be followed through. Based on the silver blood Torres' logs, they knew that constructing the drive and integrating it into Voyager's systems would take several weeks. Fine tuning it for continuous operation also promised to be a delicate and time-consuming undertaking.
Yet despite the difficulties that still lay ahead, Kathryn felt hopeful that some of the silver blood 'lucky streak' would pass over to her own Voyager.
-==/\==-
The doors to the holodeck swished open, admitting another handful of crew members. The grey arch reflected dully in the pool of viscous fluid filling the expanse between the entrance and Kathryn's vantage point. When the door closed and the arch melted away, the reddish-brown landscape reasserted itself, dark rocks jutting upward toward the flame-colored sky. Wisps of sulfurous smoke wafted over the plain, underscoring the inhospitable atmosphere of the class-Y planet.
Of course the holodeck controls were set to breathable conditions for Voyager's crew, but everything else − landscape, light, sounds and smells − had been recreated resembling the original Demon planet as closely as possible. Pools of silver blood dotted the scenery, some large as lakes, others no more than a puddle. Quite a large amount of the original silver blood had been 'used up' in the duplication of the Voyager crew and would now forever float through space, but here it looked as if those individuals had made it home and rejoined the pools, awaiting the next stage of evolution.
Again, the holodeck arch appeared briefly to discharge the last of the attendees. Everyone wore their dress uniforms as a show of respect to their lost counterparts.
Kathryn heard the crunch of boots behind her but didn't turn. She knew it would be Chakotay. Earlier, she'd seen him start his way around the lake, but even if she hadn't, she wouldn't have doubted the origin of the footfalls now stopping right behind her.
"How are you?" his soft voice inquired.
They hadn't spoken much in the past two days, sticking to the bare necessities of ship's operation and the facts uncovered by the collective scouting of silver blood logs. Once, they'd had a working lunch in the mess hall, and it was then that she'd become aware of the covert stares directed at them from several crew members. It didn't take a genius to figure out that apparently the silver blood crew had known, and privately commented on, their command team's relationship. Of course now people were looking for signs that would either confirm or deny a similar closeness between herself and the man who, unbeknownst to anyone but herself, had already declared his love for her three years ago.
Not really knowing how to convey her feelings, she simply shrugged. "Okay for now, I guess."
He'd moved to stand by her side, and from the corner of her eyes she saw him nod. "Ready then?"
She looked up at him and found herself wondering just when and why her counterpart had decided to lower her barriers and let him into her private life − not that he wasn't an integral part of it already. Janeway's logs had been of little help in that respect as there had been a gap right around the time Chakotay had indicated as the start of their relationship. Apparently she'd been too busy, or too happy, to bother with such trivialities.
Chakotay was still waiting for her reply. She finally nodded. "Let's do it."
Together they walked to where the crew had gathered, the crowd splitting to make room for the two of them.
Kathryn took a few moments to look around, to consciously appreciate every single individual, and also to think of those they'd already lost on the journey. Then she pushed that thought aside and spoke. "We have gathered here today to commemorate the silver blood crew of the starship Voyager. They were created in our image, yet none of us could have imagined that they'd also follow our calling. When we left them on the Demon planet, it seemed clear that they would never leave there. We should have known better than to underestimate them because, after all, they were Voyagers like us, fearless and resourceful." Her chuckle was echoed by many of the crew. "I wish we could have met them. Complications of dual identities aside, two Voyagers in tandem would have been a force to be reckoned with!" Murmurs of approval could be heard, punctuated by a few sighs of regret. Kathryn continued, her voice more somber now. "Sooner or later, we might encounter a species they've already had first contact with. From what I've seen, I have no doubt that they conducted themselves in the best possible manner, upholding all of Starfleet's highest principles. The friendships they forged should serve us well even though we will, of course, have to face the difficult task of explaining the circumstances of our dual existence. We shall follow in their footsteps and hope to make them proud, just as they made us proud by the way they embraced and furthered our common cause. They and their achievements won't be forgotten."
She paused, once again letting her gaze roam over her assembled crew. Everyone was there, even the Doctor. Voyager was at full stop, with every sensor running and every alarm set so that they'd be alerted at once if anything larger than a mote of space dust moved with a radius of 100,000 kilometers. These proceedings were simply too important to leave anyone out.
Kathryn cleared her throat to deliver the final part of her speech. "I've thought long and hard about how to honor them. Of course they'll live on in our memories, but I also wanted a more tangible reminder of their existence. When a ship is decommissioned, it is customary to preserve its dedication plaque in a place of honor. Since we can't recover their plaque for obvious reasons, I've decided to recreate it − in silver. It will be mounted next to our own and should remind us every day of the twisted turns of fate and that we're not just continuing our own legacy, but theirs as well." She closed her eyes and bowed her head in silent tribute to the lost crew. The rustle of fabric around her indicated that everyone followed her example.
After a minute of silence, Chakotay stepped up beside her, his footfalls breaking the tension. "I know that some of you are wondering just how to think of this other ship and crew. Were they 'mere' copies? Twins? Parallel identities or mirror images? Or maybe even imposters? I don't have a clear-cut answer to that, but I know this: they had the same thoughts, feelings, hopes and fears that all of us do. Their creation may have been an accident at first, but they were real alright. And it's okay to grieve their loss, in whichever way seems most appropriate to you."
There were solemn nods all around.
"If any of you wish to tell us something about your counterparts, or your feelings about them, now's the time," Chakotay invited. "But before we open the stage to everyone, I'd like to say a few words on behalf of someone who can't. I'd like to take a moment to remember Ensign Piper."
Kathryn swallowed the lump that formed in her throat at Chakotay's words. Ensign Remo Piper had been a young and likeable Maquis who'd quickly taken to the Starfleet way and worked his way up to bridge officer. A little more than two months after Voyager left the Demon planet, he'd been badly burned and died − the only casualty of the past year, despite the many altercations they'd had with hostile aliens. The silver blood Piper, on the other hand, had recorded a wealth of logs in the months that followed, which Chakotay had taken upon himself to go through and from which he now related several highlights. Laughter and tears mingled on the faces of those who listened and remembered their friend and comrade.
Then Chakotay and Kathryn stepped back, making room for whomever else wished to speak.
After checking left and right if anyone else wanted to go first, Harry Kim took the center spot. "You all know that Tom Paris and I were the first people to be duplicated. It was through us that the silver blood initially became sentient, so I can't help feeling that we are responsible for what happened to the crew, that maybe we're even to blame for their fate. Because if it hadn't been for us, they'd never have evolved to the point of wanting to leave their planet, which ultimately lead to their deaths."
Kathryn started shaking her head and was about to interrupt, to tell Harry that he had no reason to feel guilty. Chakotay's hand on her arm stopped her. "Let him finish," he whispered, and she restrained her urge to move.
"I also thought about how weird it was that there were basically two editions of me," Harry continued. "We were so alike, his logs could've been mine. Some days we even had the same thing for breakfast, and we did read the same books. But then I remembered something someone once told me." He turned to face Kathryn. "'Weird is part of our job.' Three years ago I came to this ship through a spatial rift and replaced another instance of me who'd died. Who knows how many other iterations of all of us are out there in the multiverse. I suppose we should just be happy that the silver blood crew held the same ideals as we do, because they could just as easily have turned out to be our evil twins. I'm glad I got to know the other me through his records, and I'll be glad to tell my parents about him when we get home." He nodded once at the captain and then stepped back.
Next, Ensign Harper moved forward. "I don't know how many of you are aware of this, but I − she had a baby." A few people's eyes widened in shock, but most nodded knowingly. "Two months ago, she and Pablo Baytart had a baby," Harper repeated, holding out a shaking hand. Baytart grasped it and joined her, standing close by her side. "They filmed her endlessly. Her name was Sheila, and I couldn't get enough of seeing her. Those tiny fingers and toes, her toothless smile, and her big blue eyes." She took a shaky breath, tears spilling down her cheeks. Baytart wrapped an arm around her shoulders in support, his eyes deceptively moist as well. "This may sound silly, but I miss her. So much! And I can't help thinking about what they went through when Sheila..." She broke off on a sob, but then pulled herself together enough to continue. "I'll always feel as if this was a baby I had and lost, but I'm glad that at least I have some records of her. For the brief time that she existed, she had a good life, and she made us very happy." She looked up at Baytart and they exchanged teary-eyed smiles before moving back to their place in the crowd, hands still clasped tightly.
Kathryn wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She'd known about the baby, had even seen a picture of her in one of her counterpart's logs. And she'd wondered if Sheila's parents were close in this reality as well. It appeared that they were, but whether that was a recent development she had no idea. Chakotay would probably know, as he usually had a much closer rapport with the lower decks.
Several more people moved forward to say their parts, some alone, others in pairs. Together, their stories wove a tapestry that was both achingly familiar, but different enough to be special, and individual. Identical, but not the same, Kathryn remembered Chakotay's assessment, and found it to be very fitting.
Finally, Tom Paris spoke up. "When I watched Tom's logs, at first I had the same reaction that you all did: amazement at how much he was like me, and curiosity about the little details that were different. I envied him for already marrying his B'Elanna, because he apparently had far more guts than I did and just popped the question one day." Several people laughed and Tom grinned in response, but then his mirth faded. "That all changed though once B'Elanna died and they found out about the silver blood. Tom actually started to remember the Demon planet, and he openly denounced his Starfleet self." He turned to face Kathryn. "Captain, I'm sorry for the grief he gave your counterpart, but I'm thankful for the understanding she showed him. He also remembered you − the person he negotiated with for the release of Voyager, and despite his bitterness in the end he remained grateful for the opportunity that you − and everyone else gathered here − granted the silver blood collective to experience sentience. I, too, am very sorry that we never met them again − if nothing else, he and I would surely have taken the crown in a team pool tournament!"
Everyone broke out laughing, Kathryn included. "In your dreams, Mr. Paris," she called out, stepping forward to clap the pilot on the back.
On this humorous note, the gathering started to disperse. People were leaving in small groups, swapping stories and anecdotes. Soon, only Kathryn and Chakotay were left, two solitary figures on the vast alien plain.
"That went okay, don't you think?" she asked, watching as he surveyed the mountain range in the distance where the first Starfleet-silver blood encounter had taken place.
"Yes," he agreed, turning to face her. "I think the plaque is a very fitting way of commemorating them. An everyday reminder that we were not alone for a while, even if we didn't know it at the time."
"Thinking about the complications that might have arisen if we ever had met them still gives me a headache," Kathryn sighed. "Almost worse than time travel. Still, I wish we'd had the opportunity. We might have learned a thing or two from them."
"Really?" Chakotay took a step closer to her. "Like what?"
"Like seizing opportunities. Taking a chance." Kathryn also moved, closing the gap between them and laying both hands against Chakotay's chest. "I think they weren't exact copies after all. The silver blood somehow made them less cautious. Not exactly reckless, but more..."
"Adventurous?" he finished for her, his arms coming up to encircle her waist. "So you think that's why they flew into an unstable wormhole? Or why their Tom and B'Elanna tied the knot much earlier than ours?" He lowered his head, resting it against hers.
"Among other things," Kathryn nodded, her cheek rubbing experimentally against his.
Chakotay's hands started massaging small circles on her back. "So you're saying that we should also be more adventurous? More open to... exploring possibilities?"
"Yes," she sighed. Taking a small step back without breaking from his embrace, she smiled at him. "Maybe we should change the motto on their dedication plaque. 'To the spirit of adventure', or something like that."
"Hmm. Let's give that some thought... tomorrow." He pulled her closer again, his lips finally seeking hers.
Behind them, the Demon planet's sun slowly sank toward the horizon, its reddish-yellow flames bathing the silver blood pools in hues of gold.
-==/ The End. \==-
A quick note to those who might feel compelled to actually do the math: Looking at the stardates given in Course: Oblivion, I realized that the events in that episode are taking place within less than a week. For the purposes of my story however, I wanted the degradation to proceed more slowly. So I decided to completely disregard the given stardates (we all know how unreliable and misleading they can be, anyway!) and assume a timespan of two months between the P/T wedding and the dissolution of the silver blood Voyager. I hope no one minds. :-)