To Stay Where You Are (Part Seven)
A sillier Fanfic written by TaTTooGaL™
The front half of Deck 11 was a riotous cacophony of shouts, screams and phaser fire. Chakotay ducked behind a bulkhead as a angry scarlet bolt of energy whizzed past him, worrying about Kathryn. He didn't know if anyone made it out of the bomb blast alive, it had seemed pretty bad…
A new pair of firers seemed to have joined their group, spitting deadly bolts of coruscate blue energy across the room into the enemy quarters. He heard Commandant Chakotay's yell of triumph; they'd hit someone. More bolts lanced out from nowhere. Keeping low, Chakotay fired into the darkness. His glowstick seemed to be running out of energy- it was growing dimmer by the minute.
Without prior warning, the lights snapped back on.
Everyone in the room cried out and shielded their eyes from the sudden glare. Chakotay knew what had happened- someone had, in a desperate move for distraction, re-activated the lighting system.
And crouched in the middle of the room, each wielding a nasty looking phaser rifle, were both Janeways.
It felt like a great pressure had been lifted off Chakotay's shoulders. His Captain stood up and continued firing at the scattering Alliance loyalists. But the Intendant seemed unsure of firing at her own men now that they could see who was doing the shooting. Chakotay shot her a glance as she looked over her shoulder. Do it, he firmly commaded her. Shoot them.
Then he realized one of the loyalists had his phaser leveled at Commandant Chakotay's chest; the Commandant was too busy firing to notice. He shouted, "Watch out!" but it would be too late-
-but the Intendant was faster. "No!" she exclaimed, and she dove forward, knocking Chakotay down, taking the bolt squarely in her midsection-
And Commandant Chakotay was on his feet, furious, firing wildly back at the loyalists. The man, realizing that he'd hit the wrong person, dropped his rifle in shock.
Chakotay raised his wand and fired wildly at the loyalists, his rapid fire crossing with that of Commandant Chakotay's and the dozen or so other rebels in the room. They kept firing, and firing, until the ship stopped shaking and all the loyalists were dead, but it seemed as if some form of angry energy had taken hold of them, and they fired and ducked and hollered till their throats went hoarse and their energy ran dry. =Read this paragraph carefully. This is the result of writing at 12.30 a.m. after reading too much Harry Potter. Owch.
It almost felt like the momentary insanity of winning a war.
On the bridge of the starship Voyager, Atoms was sweating, although he tried not to show it. Numerous people had attempted this tactic before, but with varying degrees of success. And they had only one chance at it, or the ship would crash and burn. "Helm?" asked Kim.
"Go," he replied.
"Transporters?"
"Go."
"Engineering?"
"We're ready."
"All systems go." Kim nodded at Atoms. "T minus fifteen seconds."
Paris gulped slightly, and set the Voyager rolling forward. It picked up speed, gathered momentum, heading straight for the Borg ship. The Borg cube, for one, did not seem to notice.
"Fourteen…
The Borg ship loomed larger every second, but made no response. The Voyager speeded up, still on collision course. Faster and faster…
"Thirteen… twelve…."
The Voyager continued to pick up speed. And yet faster….
"Eleven… Ten…."
Please work, please work, please work, thought Atoms desperately.
"Seven… six…
Faster…
"Five…"
It worked. The Borg Cube dropped its shields, and what looked like miniature scout fighters emerged from it, swarming towards the Voyager.
"Three… two…"
Nearly there, he thought, hands gripped tensely on the controls. Nearly there….
"One…"
Atoms closed his eyes, let his subconscious take over.
"Mark!"
The starship Voyager veered violently upwards, pulling into a nearly vertical climb. On the ship, everyone lurched violently back as the Voyager zoomed up mere inches from the surface of the Borg Cube. "Dilithium explosives are on board the Borg ship!" exclaimed Torres from the conn.
Atoms banked the ship steeply west, its sheer speed outracing the pursuing scout fighters. Beside them, the Warrior followed suit, her speed and agility no match for the Borg's.
Behind them, they Borg Cube seemed to glow briefly from within, and it expanded slightly before blossoming into a giant orange fireball. Cheers erupted from around Atoms, both on the bridge and over the conn. He turned back and grinned lop-sidedly at Harry. "We did it, kiddo. Now it's time for us to go home."
As the last shots rang hollow in the badly scarred junction on Deck 11, Commandant Chakotay dropped his phaser rifle and picked up Intendant Janeway, lying crumpled on the floor. He cradled her unconscious form in his arms. "Kathryn-?"
Captain Janeway rushed to his side and dropped to her knees. "Doesn't look good," she told him anxiously. "But if she can heal herself- we can get medical help-"
The Intendant opened her eyes and looked up at Chakotay. Her eyes were glazed over and her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. She smiled up at him. "You did it."
He grabbed her hand. "You made the right choice," he told her urgently. "Don't go. Stay."
She shook her head weakly. "No. This is the way is has got to be- the only way." She glanced at Janeway meaningfully. "The best way."
Janeway shut her eyes and looked away, breathing hard. She knew what she meant.
The Intendant looked back at Chakotay, a small smile playing on her lips. "I dreamt about France last night," she told him softly. "We were back there together, you and i. Like it was meant to be, before everything happened, and…" She fought to take another breath, glancing around her once more, and gripped Chakotay's hand tightly. "Take care of this ship. Use it well to serve your purpose, and you can make the difference." Her eyes seemed to shine brightly even as she faded away. "Make a difference, Chakotay…"
She trembled slightly and exhaled softly, eyes rolling into the back of her head.
She was gone.
Janeway sank onto the floor, suddenly feeling weak and exhausted. Her Chakotay stood in front of here, and she looked up, gazing into his haunted black eyes. Beside her, Commandant Chakotay was trembling, his face buried in the Intendant's hair. Janeway didn't know what to do, or say. She felt lost.
Commandant Chakotay gently laid the Intendant on the floor and gazed at Janeway, his eyes and manner strangely calm. "I found her again, at last," he told her softly, and a small, sad smiled flitted across his features. "Thank you."
Her Chakotay extended his hand, helping her up. It was time to go home.
Atoms Paris surveyed the bridge of the Warrior, bustling with humans, smiling, joking, hard at work, and felt an unquenchable surge of pride swell within him. They'd worked so hard and so long for this, and finally it had happened. The ship was theirs. He grinned and walked over to thump Hairs on the back. "Hey. I heard you did a pretty good job coordinating everything over here."
Hairs flushed exuberantly, his face tinged with pride. Atoms ruffled his hair like a doting father, and he ducked and elbowed him in the ribs. Laughing good-naturedly, Atoms elbowed him back. "Well, congratulations."
Hairs paused and stared at him. "Congratulations to you too," he said. "Congratulations to everyone." He gestured expansively around the bridge. "We got our ship."
Atoms chuckled softly. "No, no, it's not just that." At Hair's slight puzzled glance, he continued, "Well, Commandant Chakotay thought you did such a good job with the rebellion that he was wondering if you'd like to take the place as his second-in-command."
Hairs stared at him in amazement. "No kidding?"
"Nope."
"I'm getting… promoted?"
"Yep." Atoms nodded.
Hairs looked stunned for a moment, then a wide grin spread over his face. "I'll be damned!" He laughed, then slapped Atoms on the back. "No more toilet scrubbing for me, I'd say. Hey… I heard that our chief engineer is having some problems fixing the force fields in our holding cells. Said something about our head navigator botching something up. Wanna go help her?"
Atoms groaned half-playfully. "Sure, blame everything on me." He grabbed Hair's wrists. 'What are we waiting for?" And he pulled him towards the shining halls of the engineering core.
The mess hall of the Starship Voyager was packed today, full of crewmembers excitedly recounting the moments of how they'd narrowly escaped the Borg on their recent encounter. At the central table where the senior crew normally sat, the doctor was now regaling the crew, with great grandeur, on how the battle had been fought on the bridge. He exaggerated every detail, with Neelix at the side, adding juicy bits every now and then. Tuvok sat listening politely with one eyebrow raised, while Harry seemed to have coughing fits in his napkin every now and then.
But one person was conspicuously missing from the table- Janeway, who was sitting quietly in a small private corner, watching her crew with a small twinkle in her eye. Yet the lightness of the mood couldn't erase the dark happenings of the past few days. She shifted her grip on the small parcel she was holding and glanced towards the door. It swept softly open, and Commandant Chakotay was standing there. He saw Janeway sitting in a corner, smiled, and headed over.
Janeway looked appraisingly up at him as he came over and took a seat. "The Warrior is leaving orbit in a few hours, and I thought I'd like to … come and say goodbye."
She nodded. "You look tired."
He smiled wanly. "There's so many things to do." He paused for a moment, and frowned. "Are you sure you don't want any more of that dilithium?"
She shook her head. "You'll need the money, Chakotay. We'll find more dilithium when we run out of it."
Chakotay smiled warmly at her. "You're a good person, Kathryn… you've done so much for me." His voice dropped softer, lower. "For us."
Janeway patted his arm softly. "It was a pity that the Intendant… she didn't see the light earlier." She sighed deeply. "Sometimes, life demands that we make sacrifices, and she made the biggest sacrifice one can ever give." Janeway stared into Chakotay's deep eyes, which held a depth of pain that would always be felt. "Don't think about it so much."
Chakotay nodded slowly, sadly. "It would be the way she wanted to go… to have her remembered on both sides as a heroine, not somebody to be despised." A small flicker of something intangible flitted across his face. "Granted, it wasn't exactly the way she'd planned it to happen, but… I guess it turned out right, after all. She died for our cause, and the Alliance thinks she died fighting for theirs." He stared intently into her eyes. "I'll make sure that everyone remembers which sequence is correct."
"I have something for you," Janeway told him, passing the small parcel over the table. Chakotay opened it. Inside was a small leather-bound digital book with the gold lettering The Siren Songs of Iego, Joeller Kevrin Neaves printed on it. "It's a genuine twenty-third century reprint," she told him. "It's not an easy job to go against the flow of the tide, so I thought I'd leave you something to lighten the burden along the way."
Chakotay flipped through the paper-thin electromag sheaves and paused at a page in the middle. "I know this song," he said softly. "Traditional Irish, early twenty-first century." He set the book on the table and pointed to the heading of the page, which simply said Rain. "We are living on hope, we are living on love, depending on truth, till the day we die," he sang softly. A small smile touched Janeway's lips.
"Neaves rewrote some of the lyrics and rearranged the score to suit the modern times," she told him. "He was a renown Starfleet captain in the mid twenty-second century, and many of his songs revolve around the joys and pains of command. But how mundane they are compared to what you face daily." She closed the book and passed it back to him. "Use it as a beacon of light. Every time things seem to get too hard to handle, take this out and think of the day where your children will have nothing to worry about than these mere troubles. Think of someday."
Chakotay took the book and grasped her hand firmly, a ray of hope shining faintly from his face. "Someday, Kathryn. Someday."
Paris and Torres left the Mess Hall in an unusually good mood, with Paris still recounting to Torres how he'd deactivated this and rewired that, and Torres seemed unwaveringly keen to hear what he had to say. Finally they stopped in front of Paris' quarters. Torres smiled gamely at him. "Well, we've got plenty of work to do tomorrow," she said. "And it never hurts to get too much sleep."
"Yeah, I see what you mean," added Paris, stifling a yawn. He felt unquestionably tired. "Good night, then."
"Good night." She kissed him gently on the cheek and headed off to her quarters. But Paris called her back before she could take five steps. She turned to face him, her tone chiding. "Now what? This had better be good."
Paris grinned crookedly. "Well, you know what we were saying about us living in more turbulent conditions?" When Torres nodded, he continued. "Well, I mean, I've been on the Warrior for the past couple of days, and it seemed to me that no matter where we were, things don't change." He smiled at her. "I thought it would be a nice thing for you to know."
Torres smiled. "Yes." It was such a typical, sweet, Tom-like thing to do, telling her this. "Yes, I suppose it is." She grinned at him. "Get some sleep." Then she headed down the corridor, humming softly and inexplicably to herself.
It was nighttime on the ship's chrono, and Captain Kathryn Janeway was curled up on her couch in her quarters, sipping coffee and trying to read a book. The air felt slightly chilly, and she'd tucked her bare feet under her to keep them from getting frozen. Yet nothing seemed to be able to take away the feeling of being suddenly alone. She read another page, and wondered if she should turn in now and get a good healthy night's sleep.
Her door chime sounded. "Come," she said absently, still nose-deep in Dante's Inferno.
The door slid open, but no-one came into the room. Janeway looked up. Chakotay was standing at the doorway, uncharacteristically hesitant. He noticed her glancing oddly at him, and he stepped into the middle of the room and stood silently and uncomfortably, trying not to look at her. Janeway put the padd down and walked over. "You've got something to tell me?"
Chakotay nodded.
"Well, spit it out. I'm not going to eat you." She folded her arms.
Chakotay glanced up guiltily at her. "I've got something to confess." He shifted slightly uneasily, but when he faced her, she could see a strange sort of courage burning in his eyes. "It happened when I was on the Warrior-"
Janeway suddenly understood. "I know," she told him. "Don't worry, it's alright. It's nothing to worry about."
Chakotay glanced at her. "You know everything?"
"I guessed," she told him. "But it's fine with me. I could hardly blame you for what you did. After all," –she frowned slightly in thought- "we're all one and the same person, aren't we?"
Chakotay didn't answer, but he just kept glancing at her. "When I was on the ship, I couldn't stop worrying. Not about the fate of the rebels or even of this ship, but more about you." He took her hand in his. "I kept thinking, 'What if I never get to return to the Voyager? What if I never see you again?'"
Janeway squeezed his hand gently. "I couldn't stop thinking the same- once I'd found out, that is." She smiled playfully. "I had my share with the guilt trip as well, in case you wanted to know."
Chakotay chuckled a little at that. "I suppose that was alright as well." He took her in his arms. "It's been a long journey," he said softly. "We've come so far together, to a common destiny."
She smiled and leaned on his shoulder, gazing out at the stars. "And we have such a long road ahead of us, to a final destination." Her eyes glowing, she glanced up at him. "It is a road that we will travel together, no matter what it takes."
He smiled back. "I'll be more than happy… to make the voyage with you."
And the universe outside paused its rotation for that perfect moment as it stretched to infinity, carrying across points in time and space. For on both sides of the mirror had they found peace with themselves, and for anyone, it was enough.
___________THE END___________
Give Me A Reason/Say
The Corrs © 2000
Songs of Polygram International Inc.
Beacon Communications Music Co. BMI
Rain
Rearranged by Joeller Kevrin Neaves
Published by Evitcelloc Galactic Co.
© 2273 Evitcelloc Records
Original arrangement published by:
The Corrs © 2000
Songs of Polygram International Inc.
Beacon Communications Music Co. BMI
Reflection
(M.Wilder/D.Zippel)
Published by Walt Disney Music Co./Wonderland Music Co. Inc
® 1998 Walt Disney Records
When She Loved Me
(Randy Newman, performed by Sarah McLachlan)
Published by Walt Disney Music Co./Pixar
® 1999 Walt Disney Records/Pixar
Note from the author: Okay. Listen. So you read my story and you think it sucks. Well, it has every reason to be so! Come on. What can you expect from something coined up between 11pm-1am daily in the middle of the promotional exam fever while being accompanied by the same bad pop version of the Voyager theme played over and over ad infinitum (repeat forever, says the settings on my midi player..)? Me, a literary genius? Oh please. I probably couldn't come up with a decent paragraph for the back of a cereal box if my life depended on it. (and oh yes, did I mention that I also replayed the May sweeps promo (NO! NEVER USE THAT WORD!! THE PROMOS ARE TABOO! [see above exam comment]) to get my adrenaline going so that I could write all the action bits? Sad, huh.) Anyway, if you have any nitpicks, toothpicks or bones to pick, please hesitate and think twice before mailing me at fortysevenofnine@hotmail.com, because there's a very high possibility that I'll hex you with an Imperius Charm and make you write the sequels for me, or something. Really. ;)
A J/C fanfic by TaTTooGaL ™ , presented by fROzen Taya 17 Productions of The Collective
© October 2000
Star Trek and related symbols are copyright of Paramount Pictures Inc.
A sillier Fanfic written by TaTTooGaL™
The front half of Deck 11 was a riotous cacophony of shouts, screams and phaser fire. Chakotay ducked behind a bulkhead as a angry scarlet bolt of energy whizzed past him, worrying about Kathryn. He didn't know if anyone made it out of the bomb blast alive, it had seemed pretty bad…
A new pair of firers seemed to have joined their group, spitting deadly bolts of coruscate blue energy across the room into the enemy quarters. He heard Commandant Chakotay's yell of triumph; they'd hit someone. More bolts lanced out from nowhere. Keeping low, Chakotay fired into the darkness. His glowstick seemed to be running out of energy- it was growing dimmer by the minute.
Without prior warning, the lights snapped back on.
Everyone in the room cried out and shielded their eyes from the sudden glare. Chakotay knew what had happened- someone had, in a desperate move for distraction, re-activated the lighting system.
And crouched in the middle of the room, each wielding a nasty looking phaser rifle, were both Janeways.
It felt like a great pressure had been lifted off Chakotay's shoulders. His Captain stood up and continued firing at the scattering Alliance loyalists. But the Intendant seemed unsure of firing at her own men now that they could see who was doing the shooting. Chakotay shot her a glance as she looked over her shoulder. Do it, he firmly commaded her. Shoot them.
Then he realized one of the loyalists had his phaser leveled at Commandant Chakotay's chest; the Commandant was too busy firing to notice. He shouted, "Watch out!" but it would be too late-
-but the Intendant was faster. "No!" she exclaimed, and she dove forward, knocking Chakotay down, taking the bolt squarely in her midsection-
And Commandant Chakotay was on his feet, furious, firing wildly back at the loyalists. The man, realizing that he'd hit the wrong person, dropped his rifle in shock.
Chakotay raised his wand and fired wildly at the loyalists, his rapid fire crossing with that of Commandant Chakotay's and the dozen or so other rebels in the room. They kept firing, and firing, until the ship stopped shaking and all the loyalists were dead, but it seemed as if some form of angry energy had taken hold of them, and they fired and ducked and hollered till their throats went hoarse and their energy ran dry. =Read this paragraph carefully. This is the result of writing at 12.30 a.m. after reading too much Harry Potter. Owch.
It almost felt like the momentary insanity of winning a war.
On the bridge of the starship Voyager, Atoms was sweating, although he tried not to show it. Numerous people had attempted this tactic before, but with varying degrees of success. And they had only one chance at it, or the ship would crash and burn. "Helm?" asked Kim.
"Go," he replied.
"Transporters?"
"Go."
"Engineering?"
"We're ready."
"All systems go." Kim nodded at Atoms. "T minus fifteen seconds."
Paris gulped slightly, and set the Voyager rolling forward. It picked up speed, gathered momentum, heading straight for the Borg ship. The Borg cube, for one, did not seem to notice.
"Fourteen…
The Borg ship loomed larger every second, but made no response. The Voyager speeded up, still on collision course. Faster and faster…
"Thirteen… twelve…."
The Voyager continued to pick up speed. And yet faster….
"Eleven… Ten…."
Please work, please work, please work, thought Atoms desperately.
"Seven… six…
Faster…
"Five…"
It worked. The Borg Cube dropped its shields, and what looked like miniature scout fighters emerged from it, swarming towards the Voyager.
"Three… two…"
Nearly there, he thought, hands gripped tensely on the controls. Nearly there….
"One…"
Atoms closed his eyes, let his subconscious take over.
"Mark!"
The starship Voyager veered violently upwards, pulling into a nearly vertical climb. On the ship, everyone lurched violently back as the Voyager zoomed up mere inches from the surface of the Borg Cube. "Dilithium explosives are on board the Borg ship!" exclaimed Torres from the conn.
Atoms banked the ship steeply west, its sheer speed outracing the pursuing scout fighters. Beside them, the Warrior followed suit, her speed and agility no match for the Borg's.
Behind them, they Borg Cube seemed to glow briefly from within, and it expanded slightly before blossoming into a giant orange fireball. Cheers erupted from around Atoms, both on the bridge and over the conn. He turned back and grinned lop-sidedly at Harry. "We did it, kiddo. Now it's time for us to go home."
As the last shots rang hollow in the badly scarred junction on Deck 11, Commandant Chakotay dropped his phaser rifle and picked up Intendant Janeway, lying crumpled on the floor. He cradled her unconscious form in his arms. "Kathryn-?"
Captain Janeway rushed to his side and dropped to her knees. "Doesn't look good," she told him anxiously. "But if she can heal herself- we can get medical help-"
The Intendant opened her eyes and looked up at Chakotay. Her eyes were glazed over and her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. She smiled up at him. "You did it."
He grabbed her hand. "You made the right choice," he told her urgently. "Don't go. Stay."
She shook her head weakly. "No. This is the way is has got to be- the only way." She glanced at Janeway meaningfully. "The best way."
Janeway shut her eyes and looked away, breathing hard. She knew what she meant.
The Intendant looked back at Chakotay, a small smile playing on her lips. "I dreamt about France last night," she told him softly. "We were back there together, you and i. Like it was meant to be, before everything happened, and…" She fought to take another breath, glancing around her once more, and gripped Chakotay's hand tightly. "Take care of this ship. Use it well to serve your purpose, and you can make the difference." Her eyes seemed to shine brightly even as she faded away. "Make a difference, Chakotay…"
She trembled slightly and exhaled softly, eyes rolling into the back of her head.
She was gone.
Janeway sank onto the floor, suddenly feeling weak and exhausted. Her Chakotay stood in front of here, and she looked up, gazing into his haunted black eyes. Beside her, Commandant Chakotay was trembling, his face buried in the Intendant's hair. Janeway didn't know what to do, or say. She felt lost.
Commandant Chakotay gently laid the Intendant on the floor and gazed at Janeway, his eyes and manner strangely calm. "I found her again, at last," he told her softly, and a small, sad smiled flitted across his features. "Thank you."
Her Chakotay extended his hand, helping her up. It was time to go home.
Atoms Paris surveyed the bridge of the Warrior, bustling with humans, smiling, joking, hard at work, and felt an unquenchable surge of pride swell within him. They'd worked so hard and so long for this, and finally it had happened. The ship was theirs. He grinned and walked over to thump Hairs on the back. "Hey. I heard you did a pretty good job coordinating everything over here."
Hairs flushed exuberantly, his face tinged with pride. Atoms ruffled his hair like a doting father, and he ducked and elbowed him in the ribs. Laughing good-naturedly, Atoms elbowed him back. "Well, congratulations."
Hairs paused and stared at him. "Congratulations to you too," he said. "Congratulations to everyone." He gestured expansively around the bridge. "We got our ship."
Atoms chuckled softly. "No, no, it's not just that." At Hair's slight puzzled glance, he continued, "Well, Commandant Chakotay thought you did such a good job with the rebellion that he was wondering if you'd like to take the place as his second-in-command."
Hairs stared at him in amazement. "No kidding?"
"Nope."
"I'm getting… promoted?"
"Yep." Atoms nodded.
Hairs looked stunned for a moment, then a wide grin spread over his face. "I'll be damned!" He laughed, then slapped Atoms on the back. "No more toilet scrubbing for me, I'd say. Hey… I heard that our chief engineer is having some problems fixing the force fields in our holding cells. Said something about our head navigator botching something up. Wanna go help her?"
Atoms groaned half-playfully. "Sure, blame everything on me." He grabbed Hair's wrists. 'What are we waiting for?" And he pulled him towards the shining halls of the engineering core.
The mess hall of the Starship Voyager was packed today, full of crewmembers excitedly recounting the moments of how they'd narrowly escaped the Borg on their recent encounter. At the central table where the senior crew normally sat, the doctor was now regaling the crew, with great grandeur, on how the battle had been fought on the bridge. He exaggerated every detail, with Neelix at the side, adding juicy bits every now and then. Tuvok sat listening politely with one eyebrow raised, while Harry seemed to have coughing fits in his napkin every now and then.
But one person was conspicuously missing from the table- Janeway, who was sitting quietly in a small private corner, watching her crew with a small twinkle in her eye. Yet the lightness of the mood couldn't erase the dark happenings of the past few days. She shifted her grip on the small parcel she was holding and glanced towards the door. It swept softly open, and Commandant Chakotay was standing there. He saw Janeway sitting in a corner, smiled, and headed over.
Janeway looked appraisingly up at him as he came over and took a seat. "The Warrior is leaving orbit in a few hours, and I thought I'd like to … come and say goodbye."
She nodded. "You look tired."
He smiled wanly. "There's so many things to do." He paused for a moment, and frowned. "Are you sure you don't want any more of that dilithium?"
She shook her head. "You'll need the money, Chakotay. We'll find more dilithium when we run out of it."
Chakotay smiled warmly at her. "You're a good person, Kathryn… you've done so much for me." His voice dropped softer, lower. "For us."
Janeway patted his arm softly. "It was a pity that the Intendant… she didn't see the light earlier." She sighed deeply. "Sometimes, life demands that we make sacrifices, and she made the biggest sacrifice one can ever give." Janeway stared into Chakotay's deep eyes, which held a depth of pain that would always be felt. "Don't think about it so much."
Chakotay nodded slowly, sadly. "It would be the way she wanted to go… to have her remembered on both sides as a heroine, not somebody to be despised." A small flicker of something intangible flitted across his face. "Granted, it wasn't exactly the way she'd planned it to happen, but… I guess it turned out right, after all. She died for our cause, and the Alliance thinks she died fighting for theirs." He stared intently into her eyes. "I'll make sure that everyone remembers which sequence is correct."
"I have something for you," Janeway told him, passing the small parcel over the table. Chakotay opened it. Inside was a small leather-bound digital book with the gold lettering The Siren Songs of Iego, Joeller Kevrin Neaves printed on it. "It's a genuine twenty-third century reprint," she told him. "It's not an easy job to go against the flow of the tide, so I thought I'd leave you something to lighten the burden along the way."
Chakotay flipped through the paper-thin electromag sheaves and paused at a page in the middle. "I know this song," he said softly. "Traditional Irish, early twenty-first century." He set the book on the table and pointed to the heading of the page, which simply said Rain. "We are living on hope, we are living on love, depending on truth, till the day we die," he sang softly. A small smile touched Janeway's lips.
"Neaves rewrote some of the lyrics and rearranged the score to suit the modern times," she told him. "He was a renown Starfleet captain in the mid twenty-second century, and many of his songs revolve around the joys and pains of command. But how mundane they are compared to what you face daily." She closed the book and passed it back to him. "Use it as a beacon of light. Every time things seem to get too hard to handle, take this out and think of the day where your children will have nothing to worry about than these mere troubles. Think of someday."
Chakotay took the book and grasped her hand firmly, a ray of hope shining faintly from his face. "Someday, Kathryn. Someday."
Paris and Torres left the Mess Hall in an unusually good mood, with Paris still recounting to Torres how he'd deactivated this and rewired that, and Torres seemed unwaveringly keen to hear what he had to say. Finally they stopped in front of Paris' quarters. Torres smiled gamely at him. "Well, we've got plenty of work to do tomorrow," she said. "And it never hurts to get too much sleep."
"Yeah, I see what you mean," added Paris, stifling a yawn. He felt unquestionably tired. "Good night, then."
"Good night." She kissed him gently on the cheek and headed off to her quarters. But Paris called her back before she could take five steps. She turned to face him, her tone chiding. "Now what? This had better be good."
Paris grinned crookedly. "Well, you know what we were saying about us living in more turbulent conditions?" When Torres nodded, he continued. "Well, I mean, I've been on the Warrior for the past couple of days, and it seemed to me that no matter where we were, things don't change." He smiled at her. "I thought it would be a nice thing for you to know."
Torres smiled. "Yes." It was such a typical, sweet, Tom-like thing to do, telling her this. "Yes, I suppose it is." She grinned at him. "Get some sleep." Then she headed down the corridor, humming softly and inexplicably to herself.
It was nighttime on the ship's chrono, and Captain Kathryn Janeway was curled up on her couch in her quarters, sipping coffee and trying to read a book. The air felt slightly chilly, and she'd tucked her bare feet under her to keep them from getting frozen. Yet nothing seemed to be able to take away the feeling of being suddenly alone. She read another page, and wondered if she should turn in now and get a good healthy night's sleep.
Her door chime sounded. "Come," she said absently, still nose-deep in Dante's Inferno.
The door slid open, but no-one came into the room. Janeway looked up. Chakotay was standing at the doorway, uncharacteristically hesitant. He noticed her glancing oddly at him, and he stepped into the middle of the room and stood silently and uncomfortably, trying not to look at her. Janeway put the padd down and walked over. "You've got something to tell me?"
Chakotay nodded.
"Well, spit it out. I'm not going to eat you." She folded her arms.
Chakotay glanced up guiltily at her. "I've got something to confess." He shifted slightly uneasily, but when he faced her, she could see a strange sort of courage burning in his eyes. "It happened when I was on the Warrior-"
Janeway suddenly understood. "I know," she told him. "Don't worry, it's alright. It's nothing to worry about."
Chakotay glanced at her. "You know everything?"
"I guessed," she told him. "But it's fine with me. I could hardly blame you for what you did. After all," –she frowned slightly in thought- "we're all one and the same person, aren't we?"
Chakotay didn't answer, but he just kept glancing at her. "When I was on the ship, I couldn't stop worrying. Not about the fate of the rebels or even of this ship, but more about you." He took her hand in his. "I kept thinking, 'What if I never get to return to the Voyager? What if I never see you again?'"
Janeway squeezed his hand gently. "I couldn't stop thinking the same- once I'd found out, that is." She smiled playfully. "I had my share with the guilt trip as well, in case you wanted to know."
Chakotay chuckled a little at that. "I suppose that was alright as well." He took her in his arms. "It's been a long journey," he said softly. "We've come so far together, to a common destiny."
She smiled and leaned on his shoulder, gazing out at the stars. "And we have such a long road ahead of us, to a final destination." Her eyes glowing, she glanced up at him. "It is a road that we will travel together, no matter what it takes."
He smiled back. "I'll be more than happy… to make the voyage with you."
And the universe outside paused its rotation for that perfect moment as it stretched to infinity, carrying across points in time and space. For on both sides of the mirror had they found peace with themselves, and for anyone, it was enough.
___________THE END___________
Give Me A Reason/Say
The Corrs © 2000
Songs of Polygram International Inc.
Beacon Communications Music Co. BMI
Rain
Rearranged by Joeller Kevrin Neaves
Published by Evitcelloc Galactic Co.
© 2273 Evitcelloc Records
Original arrangement published by:
The Corrs © 2000
Songs of Polygram International Inc.
Beacon Communications Music Co. BMI
Reflection
(M.Wilder/D.Zippel)
Published by Walt Disney Music Co./Wonderland Music Co. Inc
® 1998 Walt Disney Records
When She Loved Me
(Randy Newman, performed by Sarah McLachlan)
Published by Walt Disney Music Co./Pixar
® 1999 Walt Disney Records/Pixar
Note from the author: Okay. Listen. So you read my story and you think it sucks. Well, it has every reason to be so! Come on. What can you expect from something coined up between 11pm-1am daily in the middle of the promotional exam fever while being accompanied by the same bad pop version of the Voyager theme played over and over ad infinitum (repeat forever, says the settings on my midi player..)? Me, a literary genius? Oh please. I probably couldn't come up with a decent paragraph for the back of a cereal box if my life depended on it. (and oh yes, did I mention that I also replayed the May sweeps promo (NO! NEVER USE THAT WORD!! THE PROMOS ARE TABOO! [see above exam comment]) to get my adrenaline going so that I could write all the action bits? Sad, huh.) Anyway, if you have any nitpicks, toothpicks or bones to pick, please hesitate and think twice before mailing me at fortysevenofnine@hotmail.com, because there's a very high possibility that I'll hex you with an Imperius Charm and make you write the sequels for me, or something. Really. ;)
A J/C fanfic by TaTTooGaL ™ , presented by fROzen Taya 17 Productions of The Collective
© October 2000
Star Trek and related symbols are copyright of Paramount Pictures Inc.