Title: Kiss of the Spider People
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: T
Summary: Janeway gets into hot water with some hostile aliens. Set shortly after "Coda."
Disclaimer: They're not mine (except the aliens), so don't send me money for my story. This one might count as parody, though it's not funny.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.
Prologue
As he knelt before his leader, he marveled at her beauty. Her long, thin legs were covered by tiny hairs that he imagined, should he ever know the pleasure of touching them, would be of the finest, softest texture he had ever felt. Those legs tapered gracefully into her richly-colored torso, which led seamlessly to her perfectly-shaped head, in which were set the most piercing pair of eyes he had ever had the pleasure of being beheld by. Underneath that head emanated a long, graceful set of arms with which she gave generously to her people.
But today, it was his time to give back.
"You have done well, my son," she soothed as he attempted to store her magnificent figure in his memory for his journey to eternity. One arm came out to lightly caress the top of his head, and a surge of ecstasy went through him at the contact.
"It has been an honor," he replied effortlessly. "My life is, and has always been, yours to command."
"Your existence has been a productive one," she assessed, "but it is forfeit now. We shall cherish you in death as we did in life. Your body will provide ample nourishment to your people."
He crouched even lower, bowing his gratitude. "It is as it should be," he answered gratefully, though his voice was tinged with sadness. "I yield to you, my leader and my mother, who created me and whom I have lived to serve."
She reached out and, with a sharp talon that protruded from the end of one of her graceful arms, pierced his skull. Instantly, he collapsed to the floor, his legs bent double so as never again to support his weight. Then she motioned to the guards at her side, two of which came forward and ceremoniously lifted the body between them.
"Bring me the head for encoding," she instructed, "and when he is ready, divide the rest among the people."
"It shall be done," they replied, nearly in unison, bowing their assent even while balancing the body between them.
"And now we wait for the other," she whispered, too softly for anyone else to hear.
Chakotay struggled not to cry – not to show much emotion at all – as he carried Kathryn's limp body in his arms for the second time in as many months. She was so pale, her eyelashes falling gracefully onto drawn cheeks. The protrusion of her bones belied the weight that settled between his elbows as he cradled her, and that meager evidence of her toned strength left him with the tiniest bit of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness, instilling in him the courage he required to proceed as planned.
As he placed her body into the specially-designed coffin, he resisted the urge to brush his lips across her forehead. Although she could not object to the gesture of affection, he would not risk giving the impression that she was more to him than an obstacle at this juncture, and that the care with which he placed her supple form in the cold, hard box was anything more than lingering respect and an attempt not to antagonize her former crew. As he gently dropped the body onto the cushions, he flipped the hidden switch that would put her into stasis, and silently prayed to whatever gods might be listening that the device would operate properly.
Then the lid closed, shielding her from view.
"Captain Janeway led us well," he began, his voice carefully steady so as not to betray his inner turmoil. "But it was not enough. It is time for new leadership, new tactics. I have accepted command of this vessel and have only one intention from this day forward: to do whatever it takes to get this crew home."
"Hear, hear," offered Tom Paris, raising a glass of brandy. Nervously, the others looked around, and, after a moment during which Chakotay dared not breathe for fear the game would be lost, joined in the toast.
As Chakotay drank, he relished the sting of the pungent liquid as it burned his throat. There would be no synthehol today; he needed all the effects of genuine alcohol for his own sanity.
"Let us commit her body to space, that she may spend eternity exploring as she spent her life," Chakotay spoke when the murmur had died out.
With that, he inputted the command to shoot the coffin out the airlock, and silently the crew watched their captain float away into the emptiness, the container in which she lay growing small amidst the backdrop of distant stars.
He turned, then, to his alien guests. "I believe we have some negotiations to begin," he stated, gesturing for them to follow him out of the cargo bay. His feet felt leaden as they walked side by side, and his heart sank in his chest with every step. He couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that had settled upon him like a thundercloud on a summer's afternoon. Finally, they arrived at their destination, and he invited his guests to make themselves comfortable.
It wasn't often that non-humanoid species were hosted in a Federation vessel's conference room, and it had been fitted with special furniture to accommodate their unique physiology. Chakotay found himself remembering the glee with which Kathryn had accepted their offer to meet.
"Isn't it wonderful?" she whispered to him from her seat beside him on the bridge. Her face glowed with anticipation of once again encountering the unknown. "This is what we're here for."
Chakotay didn't share her enthusiasm, but he understood it. Smiling and nodding, he answered, "Indeed, Captain. This should be interesting, to say the least."
For that, she graced him with the smile that always seemed to light up the whole room she was in. It wasn't often he got that smile out of her, and it was truly infectious. He found himself overcoming his reservations almost immediately to join her in understated revelry.
In the back of his mind, he knew he should be cautioning her, but he didn't want to dampen her rare bright mood. What, really, could go wrong? These were just another friendly species with whom they'd just made First Contact …
When the aliens were settled, Chakotay took a deep breath before commencing what he hoped would appear to be a good faith effort. "I am willing to offer you the technology to replicate food from nothing more than the molecules in your environment. In return, we would like safe passage through your space."
He waited as the large, spindly creatures made odd clicking noises, undoubtedly language that the Universal Translator had yet to interpret, and hoped beyond hope that the plan would succeed. What he did not know is that they were discussing whether or not this replication technology could suitably satisfy their taste for the flesh of sentient creatures.
However, he too harbored a secret. The aliens did not fathom that he had just buried his captain and best friend in space, alive.
What neither Chakotay nor the aliens knew was that – although she was alive at the moment, thanks in part to the hidden stasis machine – she was slowly dying of the same cause the aliens believed had already killed her. If the mission were not successful, she would be quite dead within the week.
But then again, most likely so would the rest of the Voyager's crew.
