Title: Of Time
Author: RoseKira@aol.com or kiraananke@hotmail.com
Series: VOY Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters herein owned by Paramount Studios and other
entities. No copyright
infringement intended.
Archive: Yes.
Summary: Twenty-two years after Voyager's return, Janeway and Chakotay reunite
at a New Year's
Starfleet Academy commencement ceremony. This is the result of a
Voyager_Romance New Year's
challenge.
---
Time is the fire in which we burn.
-Soran, Star Trek: Generations
---
---
Forgiveness is the final form of love.--Reinhold Neibuhr
---
Still on the run.
I suppose that's how I always thought of Chakotay after our arrival home. He
never settled, hadn't before
Voyager, hadn't on Voyager. I saw no reason to assume he would after Voyager.
I was blind. Captain's gaffe translated into Admiral's gaffe.
I could've easily disproved my theory before it settled in, naturally, could've
looked him up, asked the
right people at Starfleet where he was and what he was doing. They knew. He
lived in the shadow of his
former betrayal, and wasn't about to be allowed to forget it. Starfleet watched
him. It didn't crimp his
style, not from what I've recently learned.
I rediscovered him through a third party, an innocent third party, at your
typical Academy
commencement. I had given the speeches before, one of my least favorite roles
as returned hero, but I
gave them. Vowed that one would be my last.
Not so typical. The ceremony brought in a new year, old Earth standard, the
scheduling seemed a
romantic touch, to those Terran enough to recognize the significance.
The third party...not Terran, but of humanity. Her eyes were shining, moist
beacons as she took in the
fireworks. She stood among the cadets, wearing her new Ensign's bars
gracefully. Her height caught me
at first, a good couple of inches above your average young woman. The features
drove the stake in next.
Straight, dark hair piled neatly, offsetting pale skin. Her eyes were blue,
Nordic blue, and her lips were
his, softened. Her smile his, brightened.
The nagging familiarity might've been brushed off, I was quite good at it, had
it not been for my sighting
of Tom Paris. B'Elanna Torres. The Doctor. Tuvok. Harry. Hell, the whole damned
crew, watching her as if
she were some sort of descending queen as she shook my hand and strode off the
stage hours later. To
my eternal credit, I didn't blink, continued the ceremony, turned out a fine
group of unscarred Ensigns for
the Fleet.
I caught Tuvok backstage, touched his arm. "Don't try to pass her off as your
collective holiday orphan."
He merely nodded. "You did not note her name, Admiral?"
Well, no, I hadn't. I'd been busy biting my tongue.
He sighed, barely, and took me aside. "Ensign Ysalane Hansen. Born and raised
in the former
demilitarized zones, a colony world. Chakotay serves as civilian liaison to
Starfleet there, and Lieutenant
Commander Annika Hansen as colony commander. The colony in itself draws little
attention, I would not
expect you to know of it."
Nothing nicer than a double-edged remark from a Vulcan. Mind your fleet,
Admiral, and forget your
friends. Something to that effect. I ignored him. "Are Chakotay and Seven
present?"
"I believe Chakotay is." His gaze settled on me, all Vulcan warning. "Commander
Hansen could not be
spared from duty."
"Tuvok, go serve the punch." It was as tart a retort I could manage, and one I
already knew wouldn't faze
him. "I simply want to give my congratulations, and catch up. You apparently
came for the same reason."
"Ysalane is my goddaughter." I swear, he got sharper as he got older. "Not to
attend would be impolite.
Illogical. I am an acquaintance from her childhood."
And I wasn't.
I left him then, with a shoulder pat, before I got myself into more trouble
with Vulcan verbal sparring
than it was worth. Ysalane had faded into a corner, adjusting her uniform neck
for the new rank bar,
and...none other than the devil himself was helping. He was older, grayer, and
it seemed a
heartbreakingly paternal moment. I almost walked away. Almost. His upward
glance caught me, stunned,
wary, embarrassed. Giving the collar one last tug, the Ensign straightened,
following his glance and
snapping to attention so quickly she had to use him for balance. "Admiral." Her
tones were low, soft,
husky, not unlike either of her parents.
"Ensign Hansen." Did I emphasize the name? Perhaps. He straightened as well,
meeting my gaze with the
same formality as a current Starfleet officer would've. "I wanted to offer my
personal congratulations.
Your parents were both valued members of my crew at one time."
Damn. That hadn't sounded right, and I knew it. Chakotay had shaken off the
discomfort, brow climbing.
Ysalane merely nodded, formally, eyes dancing to take in both of us. "They've
spoken well of you,
Admiral Janeway."
"Sala." Chakotay's timbre broke the platitudes. "Paris wanted me to direct you
his way."
"I'll go now. Excuse me, ma'am." She nodded quick recognition of the dismissal,
walking back into the
crowd.
I turned back to Chakotay, meeting his gaze. "Fine young offering to the
sacrificial cause."
He nodded, eyes sparkling. "I tried to convince her not to do it. You know
these kids today..."
Enough. "You should have told me, Chakotay. I could have been there. No recruit
from the colonies has
an easy way of it..."
"She got by on her own merits." His eyes flickered with disappointment. "No
petting by an Admiral. She
had all the support net she needed...friends, family. We raised her not to do
anything less."
"I'm sure you did." Taunt. When had I become so vituperative, I didn't want to
be. I tried for levity. "The
fireworks are starting up again."
He caught my gaze, brows furrowing. "Indeed."
We walked then, slipping away from the crowds, past Tuvok's probing gaze,
beyond Torres headshake.
"You daughter seems to have it all in front of her, Chakotay. But then, how
could I expect anything else?
She had all the Starfleet support she needed. Her mother, colony commander."
"Kathryn, don't."
And I didn't. I couldn't stop myself from the sarcasm, heaven knows, but he
certainly still had the power.
"Tell your wife I'm proud of her. I mean that, no buts attached."
"I believe you. So will she." He stopped us then, taking my elbow and guiding
me to a solitary bench,
hidden among the trees. Not wholly unlike the New Zealand penitentiary grounds
that long ago day,
familiar enough to draw a smile. "Getting her to accept a commission was a feat
of itself, but once she
agreed, she found it satisfying. With the colony, Seven has just enough command
and freedom to suit her
nature."
"No attempt at a starship?"
"No starship for either of us, Kathryn." He shook his head. "We had our share.
Dirt and dust and a solid
planet under our heels. All we wanted."
"I admire that ease with nature and settling." And I did. Even after Voyager
had arrived home, there had
been no golden rest stop for me...just constant moving, constant change,
immersion in the rat race. Our
core differences, right there, I suppose. His very roots had led him back to
the life he had once
abandoned, Seven's experiences with the colder facets of technology and
progress, likewise. My
childhood, growing up, entire existence had groomed me to be the constant
stargoer, the eternal officer.
And I was. Not a bitter realization, no, just a resigned one. We could never
have made it together. Not
without destroying the best of each other. "But why give up the commission? Why
not go for a planetary
co-op?"
His glance was wry. "I'm not Starfleet, Kathryn. Never really was, though I did
a fine job of thinking so as
a youth. Being a civilian has given me a great many thing retaining Starfleet
never would have...the
freedom to attend my daughters commissioning, for instance. When I left the
colony, Seven was knee
deep in problems and frustrated as hell, but she couldn't be spared. It's her
responsibility. Ysalane
happens to be mine when Starfleet says Seven isn't available."
Touché. The silence immediately chilled, but he broke in awkwardly. "Come visit
sometime. Sala's first
leave will be in a few months. She'd like to get to know you. You influenced
her."
"Perhaps." Ensign Hansen seemed too bright, too glowing, to have formed herself
in my likeness. I had
never looked or felt that self-confident. Go have coffee with eyes of past and
might have been absorbing
my disintegration? No, I hadn't been very good at visitations of late, the rest
of them were proof of that.
My former crew was quite the family. Without the captain holding them together.
So it should remain.
"I see." His gaze said very well that he knew I wouldn't come, wouldn't
contact. Sadness, there, and
regret, mirrored in my own emotions. Distantly, a klaxon blared, startling us
apart. His smile dipped.
"Welcome to the twenty-fifth century, Kathryn." He stood, grandly offering a
hand, pulling me up,
saluting. "Admiral."
"Chakotay." It was a hollow dismissal for a hollow leave-taking, but at least
the tension, the nagging
question, regret was gone. We had seen the shape of what we had become. Quite
enough. The past-best
left there, where the colder facets of life need never intrude upon warmer
memory.
The fireworks faded.
I don't know if he looked back after taking the approaching Ysalane's elbow and
walking away.
To my eternal amazement, I did not.
Author: RoseKira@aol.com or kiraananke@hotmail.com
Series: VOY Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters herein owned by Paramount Studios and other
entities. No copyright
infringement intended.
Archive: Yes.
Summary: Twenty-two years after Voyager's return, Janeway and Chakotay reunite
at a New Year's
Starfleet Academy commencement ceremony. This is the result of a
Voyager_Romance New Year's
challenge.
---
Time is the fire in which we burn.
-Soran, Star Trek: Generations
---
---
Forgiveness is the final form of love.--Reinhold Neibuhr
---
Still on the run.
I suppose that's how I always thought of Chakotay after our arrival home. He
never settled, hadn't before
Voyager, hadn't on Voyager. I saw no reason to assume he would after Voyager.
I was blind. Captain's gaffe translated into Admiral's gaffe.
I could've easily disproved my theory before it settled in, naturally, could've
looked him up, asked the
right people at Starfleet where he was and what he was doing. They knew. He
lived in the shadow of his
former betrayal, and wasn't about to be allowed to forget it. Starfleet watched
him. It didn't crimp his
style, not from what I've recently learned.
I rediscovered him through a third party, an innocent third party, at your
typical Academy
commencement. I had given the speeches before, one of my least favorite roles
as returned hero, but I
gave them. Vowed that one would be my last.
Not so typical. The ceremony brought in a new year, old Earth standard, the
scheduling seemed a
romantic touch, to those Terran enough to recognize the significance.
The third party...not Terran, but of humanity. Her eyes were shining, moist
beacons as she took in the
fireworks. She stood among the cadets, wearing her new Ensign's bars
gracefully. Her height caught me
at first, a good couple of inches above your average young woman. The features
drove the stake in next.
Straight, dark hair piled neatly, offsetting pale skin. Her eyes were blue,
Nordic blue, and her lips were
his, softened. Her smile his, brightened.
The nagging familiarity might've been brushed off, I was quite good at it, had
it not been for my sighting
of Tom Paris. B'Elanna Torres. The Doctor. Tuvok. Harry. Hell, the whole damned
crew, watching her as if
she were some sort of descending queen as she shook my hand and strode off the
stage hours later. To
my eternal credit, I didn't blink, continued the ceremony, turned out a fine
group of unscarred Ensigns for
the Fleet.
I caught Tuvok backstage, touched his arm. "Don't try to pass her off as your
collective holiday orphan."
He merely nodded. "You did not note her name, Admiral?"
Well, no, I hadn't. I'd been busy biting my tongue.
He sighed, barely, and took me aside. "Ensign Ysalane Hansen. Born and raised
in the former
demilitarized zones, a colony world. Chakotay serves as civilian liaison to
Starfleet there, and Lieutenant
Commander Annika Hansen as colony commander. The colony in itself draws little
attention, I would not
expect you to know of it."
Nothing nicer than a double-edged remark from a Vulcan. Mind your fleet,
Admiral, and forget your
friends. Something to that effect. I ignored him. "Are Chakotay and Seven
present?"
"I believe Chakotay is." His gaze settled on me, all Vulcan warning. "Commander
Hansen could not be
spared from duty."
"Tuvok, go serve the punch." It was as tart a retort I could manage, and one I
already knew wouldn't faze
him. "I simply want to give my congratulations, and catch up. You apparently
came for the same reason."
"Ysalane is my goddaughter." I swear, he got sharper as he got older. "Not to
attend would be impolite.
Illogical. I am an acquaintance from her childhood."
And I wasn't.
I left him then, with a shoulder pat, before I got myself into more trouble
with Vulcan verbal sparring
than it was worth. Ysalane had faded into a corner, adjusting her uniform neck
for the new rank bar,
and...none other than the devil himself was helping. He was older, grayer, and
it seemed a
heartbreakingly paternal moment. I almost walked away. Almost. His upward
glance caught me, stunned,
wary, embarrassed. Giving the collar one last tug, the Ensign straightened,
following his glance and
snapping to attention so quickly she had to use him for balance. "Admiral." Her
tones were low, soft,
husky, not unlike either of her parents.
"Ensign Hansen." Did I emphasize the name? Perhaps. He straightened as well,
meeting my gaze with the
same formality as a current Starfleet officer would've. "I wanted to offer my
personal congratulations.
Your parents were both valued members of my crew at one time."
Damn. That hadn't sounded right, and I knew it. Chakotay had shaken off the
discomfort, brow climbing.
Ysalane merely nodded, formally, eyes dancing to take in both of us. "They've
spoken well of you,
Admiral Janeway."
"Sala." Chakotay's timbre broke the platitudes. "Paris wanted me to direct you
his way."
"I'll go now. Excuse me, ma'am." She nodded quick recognition of the dismissal,
walking back into the
crowd.
I turned back to Chakotay, meeting his gaze. "Fine young offering to the
sacrificial cause."
He nodded, eyes sparkling. "I tried to convince her not to do it. You know
these kids today..."
Enough. "You should have told me, Chakotay. I could have been there. No recruit
from the colonies has
an easy way of it..."
"She got by on her own merits." His eyes flickered with disappointment. "No
petting by an Admiral. She
had all the support net she needed...friends, family. We raised her not to do
anything less."
"I'm sure you did." Taunt. When had I become so vituperative, I didn't want to
be. I tried for levity. "The
fireworks are starting up again."
He caught my gaze, brows furrowing. "Indeed."
We walked then, slipping away from the crowds, past Tuvok's probing gaze,
beyond Torres headshake.
"You daughter seems to have it all in front of her, Chakotay. But then, how
could I expect anything else?
She had all the Starfleet support she needed. Her mother, colony commander."
"Kathryn, don't."
And I didn't. I couldn't stop myself from the sarcasm, heaven knows, but he
certainly still had the power.
"Tell your wife I'm proud of her. I mean that, no buts attached."
"I believe you. So will she." He stopped us then, taking my elbow and guiding
me to a solitary bench,
hidden among the trees. Not wholly unlike the New Zealand penitentiary grounds
that long ago day,
familiar enough to draw a smile. "Getting her to accept a commission was a feat
of itself, but once she
agreed, she found it satisfying. With the colony, Seven has just enough command
and freedom to suit her
nature."
"No attempt at a starship?"
"No starship for either of us, Kathryn." He shook his head. "We had our share.
Dirt and dust and a solid
planet under our heels. All we wanted."
"I admire that ease with nature and settling." And I did. Even after Voyager
had arrived home, there had
been no golden rest stop for me...just constant moving, constant change,
immersion in the rat race. Our
core differences, right there, I suppose. His very roots had led him back to
the life he had once
abandoned, Seven's experiences with the colder facets of technology and
progress, likewise. My
childhood, growing up, entire existence had groomed me to be the constant
stargoer, the eternal officer.
And I was. Not a bitter realization, no, just a resigned one. We could never
have made it together. Not
without destroying the best of each other. "But why give up the commission? Why
not go for a planetary
co-op?"
His glance was wry. "I'm not Starfleet, Kathryn. Never really was, though I did
a fine job of thinking so as
a youth. Being a civilian has given me a great many thing retaining Starfleet
never would have...the
freedom to attend my daughters commissioning, for instance. When I left the
colony, Seven was knee
deep in problems and frustrated as hell, but she couldn't be spared. It's her
responsibility. Ysalane
happens to be mine when Starfleet says Seven isn't available."
Touché. The silence immediately chilled, but he broke in awkwardly. "Come visit
sometime. Sala's first
leave will be in a few months. She'd like to get to know you. You influenced
her."
"Perhaps." Ensign Hansen seemed too bright, too glowing, to have formed herself
in my likeness. I had
never looked or felt that self-confident. Go have coffee with eyes of past and
might have been absorbing
my disintegration? No, I hadn't been very good at visitations of late, the rest
of them were proof of that.
My former crew was quite the family. Without the captain holding them together.
So it should remain.
"I see." His gaze said very well that he knew I wouldn't come, wouldn't
contact. Sadness, there, and
regret, mirrored in my own emotions. Distantly, a klaxon blared, startling us
apart. His smile dipped.
"Welcome to the twenty-fifth century, Kathryn." He stood, grandly offering a
hand, pulling me up,
saluting. "Admiral."
"Chakotay." It was a hollow dismissal for a hollow leave-taking, but at least
the tension, the nagging
question, regret was gone. We had seen the shape of what we had become. Quite
enough. The past-best
left there, where the colder facets of life need never intrude upon warmer
memory.
The fireworks faded.
I don't know if he looked back after taking the approaching Ysalane's elbow and
walking away.
To my eternal amazement, I did not.
