Kathryn leaned back in the lounge chair. She had spent her first hours at the cabin writing and re-wording her contributions to the latest diplomatic efforts with Romulus for Starfleet Command. It was all rather pointless. Having missed out on the war, her perspective was meant to inject some balance into the proceedings, but after the number of first contact situations she'd headed in the Delta Quadrant, she found herself with little patience for the strained relations with Starfleet's older foes.
Burnout, she thought. Just as the counsellors had warned, she was losing patience with simple aspects of her job, losing sleep over simple decisions and ingesting far too much coffee. The only time she had felt like herself in recent memory had been with Chakotay at the harbour that morning. She relived the morning's events once more before declaring to the empty room, "I'm moving on."
Lying back fully, she draped an arm over her eyes and was just drifting off when the comm sounded an alert. Reluctantly she rose and answered the call.
"B'Elanna! Is everything alright?"
"We can't find him, Captain."
"You'll have to forgive me. I was half asleep. Whom can't you find?"
"Chakotay. He's gone missing. He called me for a lift from the transporter terminal but when Tom showed up with a shuttle, Chakotay was gone. No one has seen him for hours." Miral seemed to picking up on her mother's distress and was starting to whimper.
"Hold on. Perhaps he found his own way back. Or maybe he went off to meditate and lost track of time. There's no sense In worrying just yet. If one of us hasn't heard from him by sunset, we'll assemble the troops."
"You're probably right. I'm worried about him. He doesn't seem like himself."
"All we can do is give him time. Either he'll adjust or he'll move on."
B'Elanna nodded. "I'll let you go, Captain. Take care."
After signing off, Kathryn resumed her previous position on the lounge chair but then opted to move to the bedroom. Her earlier exhaustion was overwhelming her and she could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. Serves me right, she thought, remembering the weeks she had spent working on the boat without proper sleep. It was just as well Chakotay had taken off; she'd probably have fallen asleep on him. She stopped that train of thought but not before the heat rose in her chest and her throat constricted. Shaking her head at herself, she laid down and covered her eyes with a cloth.
While she waited for her heart to slow its pounding, she smoothed her hands across the comforter, focusing on the softness of the fabric and slowing her breathing. A few short minutes of this and she was slipping into dreams of water.
As the liquid mud seeped into her ears, she reached for Justin beside her. She could feel him moving ever so slightly just beyond her fingertips. Knowing she needed to keep as still as she could, she inched her way in his direction. Instead of coming into contact with warm flesh, all she could feel was the cold sodden material of a muddy starfleet uniform. Fighting back the panic, she held still and let the cold seep into her flesh as the Toskanar dogs wailed overhead.
The sounds faded and she hauled herself from the mire to find herself in a swamp. This was clearly not Cardassian territory; there were no blinding lights, no paved surfaces. She found she still held the muddy remnants of a uniform in her hand and began to search for its owner. A rustle in the bushes made her cry out for Tom. No, this wasn't Tom's uniform. It was Justin's. Wasn't it? She eyed the undergrowth as a movement caught her eye and a bloated herptilian lumbered toward the pool with something in its mouth. Kathryn struggled through the mud to see what the animal held and as she gained on the beast, she caught sight of a large white wing and a long broken neck.
The sight of the broken swan hanging from the beast's maw chilled her to the core. A snarl from behind her sent her into such a startled panic that she woke, heart pounding, clammy and tangled in the sheets. She could see the doorway in the waning afternoon light, but when she tried to roll over, she found herself immobilized.
A figure appeared in the doorway. At first it was back lit and she couldn't make out its features but as as it approached her bedside, the face resolved into that of her former first officer. For a fleeting moment, she thought he had returned but the expression wasn't his. Teero, she thought with horror. Kathryn waited for him to attack, to grab her roughly as he had done before, but he just stood there, sneering at her. He took in every inch of her form, his gaze travelling over every curve and plane and she felt herself respond as she had that day in the brig: with fear, hatred and lust. She squeezed her eyes closed to push away the image, telling herself this wasn't real. When she opened her eyes again the angry man at her side morphed: his limbs and face elongated into those of an 8472. The creature screeched at her and she shut her eyes again.
When she opened her eyes for the third time, the room was empty. She experimentally lifted her left arm and, with a sigh of relief when it moved, rolled out of bed.