Disclaimer: I own nothing...Paramount owns everything except the words on this page. Do I need to say anymore?

Summary: A routine diplomatic mission ends in disaster when Ensign Samantha Wildman is critically injured during a terrorist attack. Plagued by guilt Kathryn seeks refuge in Fair Haven, unable to talk to those around her...

Graphics: Courtesy of Heavens Designs - Linksware graphics

Many thanks: to Sydney Alexis and Mandy, for all your advice and enthusiasm.

New Beginnings

© M.C.S.McGillivray 2001


Prologue

The sun slipped behind the gathering clouds, robbing the air of what little warmth it had managed to coax from the reluctant rays.

Encouraged by its retreat, the storm crept every closer, stalking its prey with deadly intent. Icy fingers reached out and tugged at the shawl covering her shoulders, but the object of its attention never flinched, remaining as still as the great stones against which she rested.

Growing bolder the storm descended, drawing her into its embrace. A drop of rain kissed her cheek, mingling with the tears that lingered there. More droplets followed with increasing fervor, plastering her gown against her slender frame.

A sudden flash of light cut through the gloom, throwing shadows across the ancient circle. A second flash followed close on its heels, ripping across the leaden sky. Trailing in its wake came a wall of noise that crashed against the hillside.

Yet still she made no move.


Chapter One

'Computer, locate Captain Janeway?'

Chakotay leant back against the wall of the turbolift, grateful for a few stolen moments of silence. Exhaustion clouded his mind, making even the simple task of stating his destination a major undertaking. It had been a long day, in an even longer week, and there was nothing to suggest things were going to improve any time soon.

'Captain Janeway is in holodeck two.'

The computer's announcement echoed loudly in the enclosed space, jarring him back to full awareness. The holodeck was the last place he'd expected to find her.

It had been a week since the 'incident', and she had spent most of that time working herself into the ground, only eating when forced to, and sleeping even less.

In the past, he wouldn't have hesitated to approach her about it, coax her into confiding in him over a home-cooked meal … but things were different now. The tension between them was almost palpable, the lingering aftershock of an attempted mutiny that had come perilously close to tearing the crew apart.

Throwing your Captain in the brig rarely makes for a good working relationship.

The use of the word 'Captain' and 'relationship' in the same sentence seemed to aggravate the dull ache that had taken up residence behind his eyes. Reaching up, he massaged the offending area while he considered his next move. Knowing Kathryn, she'd probably decided to use up some of the holodeck time she'd accumulated in the hope of getting the Doctor off her back.

Sighing softly to himself, he redirected the turbolift and set off in search of his captain.

The sanitised voice of the ship's computer had just announced his arrival at deck ten when Chakotay's comm. badge sprang into life.

'Commander?'

Chakotay bit back a groan as the voice of Voyager's chief medical officer filled the air.

'What can I do for you Doctor?'

'I was looking for the Captain but there appears to be a problem with her communicator. She's not answering my hail.'

Chakotay stiffened, a frown wrinkling the outline of the elaborate tattoo engraved upon his forehead.

'She's in holodeck 2. I was about to check in with her in person…'

'Good.' The Doctor cut in before Chakotay would finish, ' I hate to interrupt her during her off-duty hours but she asked to be notified immediately there was a change in Ensign Wildman's condition…'


'What do you mean, she's not here?'

The words came out with more force than intended, attracting the attention of some of the bar's regulars. They dragged their eyes up from the rim of their tankards to stare for a moment at the stranger, before resuming their previous activity of propping up the bar. It took more than an irate Native American to upset the atmosphere of O'Sullivan's.

'Well now …' Michael eyed the man standing before him. 'Which part of 'not here' didn'tcha understand?'

Intrigued, the Irishman raised the glass in his hand to his lips and drained the last of the amber liquid that lurked inside. He didn't speak again, until the glass had been washed and replaced on the shelf behind the counter. His movements were slow, deliberate, forcing Chakotay to swallow his irritation.

'She was here, but she left…said she needed to clear her head.' Michael glanced towards the timepiece on the far wall as he spoke. 'An hour or two. She was upset, distracted.'

'And you let her leave like that?'

'Katie's a stubborn woman. What was I to do, nail her feet to the floor?'

A frown marred Michael's features as he stared out of the window. The wind had picked up, bringing with it a chill that sent shivers down the Irishman's spine. A distant rumble of thunder heralded the arrival of a storm. It wasn't a day to go wandering in the hills alone.

'Did she say where she was going?'

'Aye.'

Both men jumped as a shutter broke loose in the wind, slamming back against the building with a resounding crash.

'Wind's picking up.'

Looking round for the source of the muttered comment, Chakotay found himself staring into the misty eyes of an old man, balanced somewhat precariously on a nearby stool. While not particularly fond of this program, Chakotay thought he knew most of the characters. The old man was a new one on him. Who ever had done the programming had excelled themselves, capturing everything from the dirt embedded under his nails to a distinctive body odour that convinced you to turn your attention, and your nose, elsewhere.

'You can almost hear the stones singing.'

Chakotay had already turned back towards Michael, dismissing the old man's words as the ramblings of a drunk. The fact seemed to anger the man, as he slammed a fist on the bar, upsetting his half-empty tankard of ale. Oblivious to the sticky liquid soaking into the tattered remains of his overcoat, he turned to glare at both men.

'Have you learnt nothing? Must everything be spelt out for you? You shouldn't a let her go alone.'

He spat the words at them, then seemed to withdraw into himself. Without warning, he pushed away from the bar, wrapped his coat tightly around himself, and plunged into the gathering gloom.

An uneasy silence filled the room, transforming the sense of unease Chakotay had been struggling to contain into full-blown fear.

'What stones? What the hell is he talking about?'


It was the cold that finally penetrated the fog that had descended on her mind. That, and the dull ache that radiated out from the centre of her back where an outcropping of rock bit into her. Shifting position, she raised a hand to push away a strand of sodden hair that had plastered itself over her eyes.

An eerie twilight had descended over the landscape, sending shadows rushing towards her, while dropping the temperature even further. The cold slowed her reflexes and she stumbled twice before reaching the middle of the circle.

Try as she may, Kathryn could no longer recall the twisted logic that had brought her to this place. What had seemed so plausible only hours earlier now dissolved around her into a seething mass of uncertainly and self-doubt. Embarrassment warred with guilt, bringing a false flush to her cheeks. Communicating with the dead was Chakotay's specialty, not hers … she had enough trouble communicating with the living.

A scientist born and bred, she had always found comfort in the complex equations and theorems that explained so much of the world around her. Her religious beliefs had fallen by the wayside, except for those few occasions when she had allowed Chakotay to slip past her defenses.

Angry at herself for being so gullible Kathryn pushed away from the fallen stone that lay abandoned in the core of the circle, her gaze sweeping across the clearing in search of the twinkling lights of the village nestled in the valley far below.

It was then that she saw it; a whisper of movement at the very edge of her field of vision.

'Sam?'