Chapter 26- Voyager

The meeting of senior staff that morning was the hardest of Chakotay's life. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to go to Kathryn in sickbay, to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be alright. What good it would do? None. But he wanted to be there nonetheless. He ached to be away from her.

He didn't want her to die alone.

But he was in command for the moment, and he had to be strong, as he knew Kathryn would be. She had always been so strong- no, he refused to think of her in past tense. She was going to make it through this. He wasn't about to become captain yet. Her chair was not going to be his.

"Report," he said, breaking through his personal haze of emotion to look at the crew around him, seeing their own pain reflected back at him. It couldn't match his however.

"The nebula has stopped emitting the energy bursts," Harry told him. "From what we can tell, it emits those on a regular basis as a result of some complex gaseous interactions in the centre of the nebula. The ship is secure."

"The Delta Flyer took it pretty rough," B'Elanna said. "All the internal systems were blasted, but the framework's still sound. We should be able to repair it in a couple of weeks or so. We also managed to salvage the deuterium it collected."

"Good," Chakotay nodded, trying his hardest to look interested. He turned to The Doctor finally, dreading the question he had to ask now. "How is the captain?"

"After analysing the energy bursts in a bit more detail I have now come to understand their effect on the captain a little better," The Doctor said. "I believe a new influx of restorative cells combined with controlled bursts of osmotic pressure therapy should be enough for her cells to stabilise and begin to duplicate."

Chakotay felt a wild flutter of hope. "You mean, you can cure her?"

The flutter of hope died as he saw the look on The Doctor's face.

"Unfortunately, I'm unable to proceed at the moment," he answered. "While I suspect my treatment would be effective, I am unable to procure new restorative cells. The level of cellular degradation in the captain's body is so extensive that there is not a cell in her body unaffected. I have tried to replicate synthetic cells, but they have no effect."

Before Chakotay's heart could sink any lower, Seven spoke.

"Could you not use donor cells, Doctor?"

"In theory, yes," The Doctor said. "But with the osmotic pressure therapy and the damage already done, the donor cells would have to be a very close match in order to work. Finding a donor among the crew would be near miraculous."

"There'd better be a 'but' to this, Doctor," Chakotay said. He stared intensely at the EMH as though trying to force him to tell him what he wanted to know.

The Doctor nodded, but still looked grim. "There is," he said. He glanced to Tom. "The best hope for the captain, is Amelia."

"Amelia?" Tom frowned. "You want to use her cells?"

"Her stem cells, yes," The Doctor nodded. "Such transfers work best with close family, and Amelia is the only source of the captain's DNA for several thousand light years. I have already determined that they are a match."

Tom looked hesitant. "Is there no other way?"

"Not that I've been able to find, and we're running out of time." The Doctor looked down at the PADDs he had brought with him. "She could save her life."

"But there's risk involved, right?" Tom had gone incredibly pale, and despite Chakotay's own concern for Kathryn he felt for him. "I know that much. Amelia's so fragile herself. Her immune system is so volatile. If you remove some of her stem cells …"

"I've considered that," The Doctor said sombrely. "I can keep her in isolation and provide some further treatments. She should be alright. Her own body will produce some more in time, and I can accelerate the process."

"Should be alright?" Tom swallowed and bit his lip. "Doctor, I'm all for helping the captain, but not if it's gonna put Amelia at any risk."

"The risk is minimal," The Doctor tried to reassure him, a frown beginning on his face. "There's a greater chance of something going wrong with the captain than there is with Amelia. The procedure will, unfortunately, be painful for her. But it should not cause any lasting harm."

"There's that word again, 'should'." Tom looked around at everyone, his desperation showing on his face. "There's a still a chance she'll be harmed by this, right? You want to put a kid through that risk and cause her pain?"

"I don't want to," The Doctor protested, his voice growing louder. "But she could be her mother's last hope. I would not recommend this if I believed otherwise, or that Amelia would be permanently damaged. The captain needs this!"

"And I need my four-year old daughter to be safe!"

"Enough!" Chakotay interrupted before the two of them could come to blows or say something they'd regret. Both were glaring at each other across the table. The rest of the senior staff watched silently, all probably feeling as conflicted as Chakotay himself felt. The thought of causing that little girl any harm or pain was like a dagger to his heart. But losing Kathryn would end him. What should he do?

Chakotay passed his hand over his eyes, forcing himself to get it together. He had to make this decision, one of the toughest he might ever have to make. The daughter, or the mother? Which did he love more?

The answer was impossible to come to. He'd die for both.

He needed to think like a captain. Like Kathryn would.

Drawing a deep breath, Chakotay looked up at Tom, who awaited his decision with a look of utter anguish.

"I cannot order you to do this, Tom," Chakotay said, ignoring The Doctor's protests. "It is your decision to make, no one else's. I cannot order you to put your daughter in harm's way, even to save the captain."

Tom nodded, but he didn't look any happier. On the contrary, he seemed worse. Chakotay did not envy him the impossible choice he now had to make. He did not doubt Tom's profound respect, and even affection for the captain, but he also knew that he would never willingly allow his daughter to be put in any danger, no matter how slight.

As much as Chakotay wished it were otherwise, Tom now held the captain's life in his hands.

"Very well," The Doctor said, folding his arms across his chest. "But make your decision quickly, Mr. Paris. Tomorrow night is our last chance; any later and it will probably be too late to administer the treatment. Let me know what you decide. I'll be in sickbay."

The hologram stood up and left the briefing room without another glance at anyone. The silence he left behind was palpable.

"Dismissed," Chakotay said, feeling his own defences beginning to fail.

They left quietly, leaving Chakotay sitting alone at the briefing room table. He looked to Kathryn's empty chair beside him and almost broke down entirely.

I can't lose you, Kathryn.