The day drew to a close and several long hours into the night, Janeway
began to improve. By some miracle, one of the Palaish was carrying a small
dose of medicine very similar to that which Lexei had given me, which Tuvok
insisted on administering himself. My Earther friend's entire team stayed
by her side, discussion options and watching over her, until finally she
came groggily to consciousness. She quickly dismissed her crew's questions
about her welfare and insisted on discussion the issues at hand, which the
small group did for hours afterwards. In the end, some plan of action was
decided on, and everyone went to some corner of the house to prepare for
the day to come.
The Fed's were resourceful folks, I observed as I half-understood their schemes to improve Janeway's chances. The Palaish trio, Slam, and the Kleeds enthusiastically promised to help in any way they could. Even so, my hearts were heavy with the sense of foreboding that hung in the room like smoke. It was strange - Janeway seemed to be the only one who didn't give up a stitch of hope.
The middle of that night found me sitting on the cabinet below my window, elbows on the sill, chin on my fists as I stared at the snow beyond my front yard. Normally it was untouched except for my own tracks; the surfaces of the snowdrifts sparkling like glitter under the moonlight. That night it was a mess. The frantic feet of over a hundred soldiers had churned the once-perfect layer of white stillness into a rough, poisoned terrain. How dare they.
Everyone but the Fed's was asleep somewhere on my floor. Though my back was turned to them, I could tell you exactly what each one was doing: Torres would be puttering with her little contraption by the light of the fire in the stove. Tuvok was standing before my other window, keeping watch like a statue. Wildman would pace around the room, looking for small ways to contribute to the cause. Chakotay was trying relentlessly to get Janeway to rest. And Janeway, of coarse.
. startled the seven hells out of me by coming soundlessly up behind me and setting a hand on my shoulder. When our eyes met, she regarded me for a moment, her face hard to see in the flickering firelight, then took a seat next to me on the cabinet. I found that I was glad she did.
"I was right," I said quietly. "This is my last chance."
"You know, you've mentioned that several times and I still don't know what you mean."
"Actually. neither do I. I just want. to do something right. To mend some of the damage. To be someone that I'm proud of. I just don't know how. And just look what's going to happen tomorrow. There's nothing fair about it, nothing just, nothing good. And there's not a blessed thing I can do about it."
Janeway smiled and looked out the window, her eyes searching until they rested on the stars.
"Back on Earth many, many years ago, there were two countries that fought each other for a hundred years. Countless people died and still neither side was willing to stand down. England wouldn't give up its sights on France, France refused to let itself be occupied. It went on with no end in sight. And then a girl like you, a peasant named Joan found her way to the king of France and convinced him to let her lead an army against the English in a battle at the city of Orleans. She herself kept fighting in that battle even after she was wounded."
"What happened?"
"She led France's armies to some important victories, drove the English back. The war ended largely because of her."
"That's beautiful," I said, then frowned. "What happened to Joan?"
The way that Janeway's gaze floated down to the snow hinted somehow that she'd been hoping to omit that part of the story.
"She was captured and killed publicly not long before the war ended. Five hundred years later, she was made a saint."
"Now that's not fair. It sounds like if anybody should've seen the end of that war, it was her."
"The point is that Joan of Arc was someone who had to earn everything she had: Respect, honor, everyone who believed in her. There were a lot of reasons for her not to succeed, but she did because she believed in herself."
I looked at her sadly.
"I'm not her," I said, genuinely sorry for the fact. "I wish I were. I wish. I wish I were like you."
"Me?" Janeway said, amazed. "Melai, I'm lost in the Delta quadrant with 150 people as my responsibility. We face death at every corner, we may never see our home again, and you're envious of me?"
"You have a gift," I broke in. "You're special, like Joan. I knew it the first time I saw you. And just to see the way your people look at you, I can see your courage and compassion and grace. You are so. good. I'd give anything to have what you have, Janeway. Anything."
Janeway finally looked at me again. When she did, she reached a hand and set it on the back of my neck.
"You are something, Melai of the Krischta family. I wish that you could see yourself the way I do. You are the kind of person who's willing to try for something more. Because of people like you, worlds change. I've seen it."
"Boy, what you don't know about Rycose IV is a lot."
Janeway smiled, shaking her head.
"And what you don't know about possibilities is a lot."
I smiled back.
"Gods, I hope you're right."
Janeway laughed and hugged an arm around my shoulders. I sat with her like that through the rest of the night, content for the moment in the presence of a friend, and finding incredibly that I almost believed her. Almost.
Dawn came too soon, as we all knew it would. Everyone was awake by then, those who'd been able to sleep only having accomplished a restless few hours. The mood in the hovel was tense and silent, everyone just waiting to hear the first cavalry scuzzlebat's steps in the snow. As we waited, all eyes rested on Janeway, strong steady Janeway who stood straight before the window, staring indifferently out over the snow.
Abruptly, she turned and addressed the group.
"I can't ask any of you to participate in this. It doesn't have to be your fight. I know that all of you have more at stake than we do. You're the ones who call this place your home. If anyone's having any doubts, now's the time to say it."
Janeway scanned every Rycosian face, her eyes slightly lingering on mine. Gods, the woman had guts. That's when I was startled to find that everyone's look had shifted to me, so I'd better say something.
"That's just it, isn't it?" I said slowly. "This is my fight if it's anybody's. I cannot take your place in the bashahm, but I can make Shura know that I'm part of it."
"Our fight," Slam backed me. "It should've been ours rotations ago. If Shura's still standing by the time the day is over, he'll swear that there were ten thousand of us instead of ten."
Janeway sighed in defeat, then went on.
"Whatever happens today, we'll be in it together."
"Captain."
Janeway went to the window before which Tuvok was still standing. The slight change in her otherwise set expression told me the moment she saw what he had seen. The rest of us crowded around, standing on our toes to see over each other's heads.
The horizon was nothing but the shadows of body-to-body soldiers. Wave after wave of them appeared and advanced toward us across the plain.
"Son of a bitch," Chakotay swore.
"B'Elanna, how's your secret weapon?"
"All set, Captain," Torres said and passed Janeway the strangely shaped silver pin that she'd been fiddling with all night. "I just wish I'd been able to test it."
"That's all right, you've done well. What about the beacon to Voyager?"
"Up and running. It's just a matter of time before they pick it up."
"Time. That's something we're lacking at the moment."
"I'll hold out, Chakotay," Janeway said. "Whatever it takes."
"Janeway of Voyager," Shura's voice resonated in the air. "The bashahm starts now."
The Earther's jaw muscles bunched as she ground her teeth in anger and determination. Slowly, she crossed to the door and slid outside with the rest of us filing quietly out behind her. All 13 of us, even little Tieghy stood there before what we found to be an entire Madditan legion standing in its ranks not 150 paces from my door. And just before the center of the front line, perched on the back of an impossibly grand scuzzlebat, Shura.
"Face me here, off-worlder!" he called.
At the last echo of his voice, I heard a sound of many distant footsteps in the snow. Suddenly, rows and rows of peasants occupied both edges of my peripheral vision, lined up as though on either side of a street on a parade route, though I saw not one unheavy face among them.
Well, wasn't that Shura to a T? He'd brought them all there to further break their spirits. After all, what good was a power show with only a handful of brainwashed lackeys to see it? From then on, the point would be made: No one challenged the Builder Shura. No one, no matter what part of the universe they were from. Any who did would die an ugly death, just like this.
Amazingly though, Janeway was unfazed. She held up a hand to signal her group of backers to stay where we were and boldly walked a dangerous distance toward the center of the giant humanoid square.
"I ask that this end before it begins. I will not be subdued without a fight, but I want nothing less than to see people hurt here today. Let it be known that my people came with cooperative intentions and then were lured in and ambushed by authorities. Melai of the Krischta family, the one the same authorities have labeled a coward, had the courage to help us because she listened to her hearts. You can do the same thing. It doesn't have to be this way."
"Enough! Your off-worlder tactics will not save you in the Republic of Madditah!" Shura screeched like a war cry.
Apparently, Commander Chakotay felt as I did: Damned if we were going to let Janeway be thrown to the razorbeasts. Both of us jogged to catch up with Janeway. By her side, I gave in to temptation and took the floor.
"Look at yourselves! Don't you see what's happening? There's nothing to be gained from this, no challenge, no honor. It's murder, just like it's always been! We spend our lives killing, watching our friends die alongside people who never wronged us, but we still call our enemies. Why? Because it's all we know? Because we're afraid of the Builders? That shouldn't be! Look around you, everyone! We have everything we need. If we don't stop these wars, they will go on until even that is gone. All of you, in your hearts know I'm right. Stand here with me now. This could be your last chance."
The way the tirade poured out of me startled me even more than it did everyone else. Nothing happened at first. Then, in the corner of my eye, there was halting movement. Looking over my shoulder, I found someone no more that a boy edging his way toward our group as though trying not to be noticed.
Someone noticed.
A bent old woman followed the boy. A middle-aged couple followed her, and then a young family. Slowly, one by one, they trickled over. Soon the trickle became a stream, and the stream a river. By the end, nearly half the peasants had settled in behind us.
Janeway watched with an awed smile. To me it was a damn miracle. Shura on the other hand was turning a dangerously bright red as his fury threatened to overtake him.
"How dare you!? I am the Builder Shura! You are not worthy of knowing the light of the Gods, none of you are! You will all die in darkness!"
"That's not going to work, Shura. You don't hold these people in fear. Not any more."
To my surprise, my retort was followed by a cheer from the crowd behind me. After watching Shura shrink several cm's, Janeway and I exchanged a knowing glance. We had him. If he went through the bashahm, he faced the first fair fight of his life. If not, everyone would see what a fraud he was. I'll admit that part of me wanted him to go through with it, to see him humiliated and suffering. But that part was not as big as the one that couldn't help feeling sorry for him, and just wanted it all to end.
"Stand down, Shura. Don't be a fool, it's not worth these people's lives."
"Demon," Shura growled back at Janeway. "You are weak. And a few farmers are not going to save you! Form your lines!"
Slowly, reluctantly, the soldiers shifted their ranks into two long, parallel lines some four paces apart: A gauntlet for Janeway to run. Janeway turned and spoke to her people.
"Show time. B'Elanna, are you ready?"
"It's as good as I can make it, Captain."
The line of Janeway's mouth slanted. "Then it's as good as it gets. Melai, if you'd direct everyone to their place?"
I nodded blankly and arranged the Fed's and peasants into the same pattern as the soldiers. Even with the peasants, our lines were painfully shorter. Janeway and Shura took their places at the ends of their respective ordeals. To her credit, Janeway was looking remarkably composed despite her unsteady condition. Shura on the other hand was as pale as the snow and his baldhead glistened with sweat.
"Perhaps I'll see you on the other side," Janeway told him.
"You'll die in five paces, Earther," Shura growled back.
The referee who stood near me at the end of the gauntlets fired a small handgun into the air and the bashahm began.
"B'Elanna, now!" Chakotay called.
As Janeway ran to meet the gauntlet's beginning, she and Torres simultaneously slapped the silver pins they wore on their jackets. That's when Janeway began to sparkle with a bright blue light. Before my eyes, her image became transparent, and then disappeared. The poor fools at the beginning of the line had only air to swing at. Just as quickly, Janeway shimmered back into existence a comfortable distance from the end of her would-be ordeal, leaving every Rycosian present to blink at the phenomenon.
Meanwhile, Shura made a mad dash down our lines in an attempt to plow through. It worked for a bit, but the first half managed to slow him down enough for the rest of us to get some good whacks on him. By the time he collapsed facedown out of the end of the gauntlet, he was bleeding from the nose, lips, and eye socket, had a shoulder dropped into an unnatural position, and numerous black and blue marks covering the exposed parts of his skin. When he lifted his face to spit out some blood and snow, he saw Janeway towering over him unscathed.
"You." he said, full of venom.
"It's called a site-to-site transport. You might know about it if you put some effort into something other than killing."
"Bad form!" Shura screamed as he tripped up to his wobbly legs. "You can't just -!"
"You know the rules, Builder Shura. She made it from one end of your lines to the other. The ancient texts say nothing about how to do it," I reminded him.
Shura broke in with a viscous war cry. Without another word, he launched himself at Janeway and caught her around the body, bowling her to the ground. Janeway landed in the snow with a thud as the wind was forced from her lungs. Shura moved to crush her chest with a stomp of his foot. Janeway rolled out of the way and straight up to her feet. There they both assumed semi-crouched defensive positions and slowly circled each other as everyone trickled into a large, crowded ring around them.
"Stay back! Any who interfere will be shot!" the referee yelled.
Shura attempted a series of twitch-fakes. Janeway's iron concentration remained untouched, save for the slightest reflexive counter movements. Shura's lip curled back into the ugliest smile I've ever seen. Janeway grimaced slightly, but remained composed. Through it all, the crowd was silent, each and every one of us praying to the Gods and our ancestors that Janeway would be the one left standing in the end.
Shura ran at her again. In one smooth, graceful move, Janeway pivoted out of the way while simultaneously sending him into the ground with a little push to back up his own momentum. Shura rolled easily to his feet and went for Janeway again. Again she fed him to the snow. The sequence repeated itself three more times. By then, I was beginning to wonder just how long the tedium would continue before Shura got it into his head that a bonsai charge was not going to work. On his third trip to the ground, he lost his balance and landed sprawled on his back. Janeway was on him instantly, delivering a fierce kick to the side of his head. Shura recovered from the shock too quickly and was back up on his feet in a flash. At an impasse, they circled each other again.
"Kill him, Earther! Wallop him!" someone yelled.
An enthusiastic cheer erupted. In a rage, Shura swung at Janeway wildly. She ducked, dodged, and countered, landing a hard hook to his belly. He coughed at the impact and staggered back in a doubled-over position. He abruptly unfurled and swung aimless punches at Janeway. That's when the terrible thing happened, and by sheer accident too.
Shura's viscous fist slammed directly into the site of Janeway's wound.
Janeway gasped and fell to her knees, then onto her side. She curled around the wound, petrified by the pain, grinding her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. Shura squinted down at her, towering on his unsteady feet, and that hideous grin of his appeared again. He ran to Janeway and delivered a kick to the same place. This drew a deep roar from her and sent her rolling to her other side. I was horrified to see a deep red stain left in the snow where Janeway had just been. Shura dove on top of her and ensnared her throat in his hands, squeezing with all his might.
"No!" different people screamed at various intervals.
Janeway coughed and struggled to breathe past the two clamps on her throat as she lay pinned on her back, her face quickly turning a dangerous shade of red. In trying to pull Shura's hands away, she managed to turn her face toward the cluster of Feds and myself. She opened her eyes and saw us, saw that her comrades hurt to see her hurt, as she could not breathe, neither could they. In that instant, she knew that they bore any equivalent of what she did, as did I. She knew, and she wouldn't have it.
Janeway's hands flew from Shura's wrists to his fingers. She wormed her index fingers under Shura's pinkies. With all her strength, she peeled those fingers back until the fantastic crack that must've flooded the entire valley, second only to Shura's scream.
Shura reflexively fell back from the shock, gaping at his misshapen and crippled hands. Janeway seized the opportunity to roll to her own feet. She regained her balance before Shura did, and flew at him with a series of ferocious blows to his head and belly, emitting a loud roar with each. Though I don't believe Janeway was concerned with methods at the time, her actions proved to be quite efficient. By the end, a bloodied Shura was down on his knees, his head at just the right level to receive the maximum force of Janeway's kick. His head flew backwards, taking his body with it, and he was flat on his back. Janeway staggered towards him, gathering momentum for her pounce.
"No!" Shura squealed frantically. "No, don't! I yield! I yield!"
Janeway stopped dead in her tracks. Frozen mid-stride, she stared fiercely down at him, her shoulders heaving with her fast, deep breath. And her eyes. My Gods, her eyes were primal, wide and wild and unblinking even as the sweat dripped into them.
"I said I yield!" Shura begged.
Chakotay quietly slid between the people in his way and went to stand behind Janeway.
"Captain."
At the sound of his steady voice, Janeway's eyes broke from Shura's. She turned slowly around and looked up into the face of her first officer.
"You won. He's beaten. It's over."
Janeway's brow furrowed and her eyes drifted downwards.
"That's. fffortunate."
Janeway's legs gave way and she collapsed into Chakotay.
"Wildman, Tuvok, quickly! She's hemorrhaging!" Chakotay yelled as he eased her deftly to the ground.
Half the crowd erupted into cheers over Janeway's triumph, while the rest crossed their hearts in worried silence. I myself suddenly felt a wave of fatigue as the adrenaline that had kept my senses in overdrive for the past several days rapidly dissipated. My legs disappeared under me and I fell to my knees. It was over. It was really over. Shura would never hold us in terror again. Of course, he would be succeeded by one of the Builders, but the damage was done to their entire reign. All of these people, the peasants, the soldiers and what they'd seen. What they knew would spread like wildfire. The people could grow bold; the soldiers could grow brains!
"Melai, he's got a gun!" Tieghy's thin little voice trumpeted above all other noise.
My head snapped up and I saw Shura on his feet, his face the color of blood, his eyes as round as the full moons, his teeth bared, and a pistol in his mangled hand. The weapon, which he must've had hidden his clothing the entire time, was trained carefully on where Janeway lay in the snow amidst the huddle of her crew.
The most inspiring thing happened then: I stopped thinking. It's really quite amazing how fast and how much you can do when you're unburdened with thought. While I don't recommend it most of the time, I will say that acting without thinking can be quite appropriate. Over the next few moments, I moved through a fog of non-thought, motivated only by the inferno that burned in my hearts and pulsed through my body when I looked at Shura. I let out the most beast-like cry that I ever could have imagined coming from a person. I launched myself from where I knelt and ran with all my might at Shura.
The Builder fired.
Being shot between the hearts is, for lack of a better word, dazzling, not to mention another new experience. After the initial sledge hammer-like impact on my chest, there was no pain at all. There was only a kind of warm numbness that immediately cascaded over me, protecting me, even when the impact of the blast threw me into the ground. I lay there, vaguely acknowledging the hundreds of enraged cries rising around me. Tuvok, Torres, and Slam were suddenly around me. When Slam raised my head to rest in his lap, I caught a glimpse of my chest: An area just to the left of my sternum bore an impressive wound, strikingly similar to the one that killed Lexei. It was surreal, almost as though I were watching the finale of some hokey B-play unfold.
"Melai, can you hear me?" Tuvok demanded urgently.
The image of my friend suddenly filled my mind. I couldn't see her, could barely look around.
". Janeway?"
"She was not struck. You, however, obviously were."
". Please," I whispered, remembering the situation, "h-help me stand."
"You must be still. Focus on the sound of my voice. It is vital that you stay conscious."
I shook my trembling head and swallowed the bitter tang of the blood rising in my throat.
". You don't understand. please. no time."
Images around me were rapidly blurring, but I held on long enough to see the Feds exchange a grim glance just before the two of them and Slam ever so deftly hauled me to my feet. Even then, they supported most of my weight. Shura still stood some ten paces before me, but his face had dropped from wild to completely slack. His hand limply held the pistol, barely tight enough to keep it from dropping.
Impossible. This couldn't be the man who'd held the world in such horror, who'd willed the death of so many. Not this deflated, quivering mudfish I saw before me!
"Say what you have to say," Torres told me.
I swallowed and gathered my strength.
"You. will never h-hurt. another soul. Not these people. or the off- worlders. the Palaish, the Unions. or me. You are dead to me."
Shura's eyes suddenly came to life and seared into me.
"I am the Builder Shura! The Builder Shura never dies!"
Almost all within the same instant, Shura launched himself at me, an energy shot from some still-anonymous person lit the area at his back, he froze, and he fell.
My own legs failed me and the Feds lowered me to the ground.
"Melai? Melai!" I heard Slam's frantic voice.
"Melai, hold on. I'm getting a signal from Voyager."
". must remain conscious a few minutes more."
". come on, stay with us."
The voices of Slam and the Feds began to melt together with the brew- ha-ha around us, and my vision steadily dimmed. Over the following few minutes, while my companions struggled to keep me focused above the din of the hysterical crowd, I remember being vaguely aware of the fact that I was dying. All I could feel was one of my hearts hammering away at my chest and skull, as well as an almost overwhelming sort of giddy sensation. I know it sounds sick, but the blood rapidly escaping my chest despite the pressure of Tuvok's hand seized me with an urge to laugh. Not just because I was dying, but because I was dying and in some strange way, the most important way, I was all right.
Soon, even that awareness faded. The sounds faded. The faces faded. I faded.
I laughed.
Since it's obvious that I didn't die, I won't insult your intelligence with melodrama. What I remember about the period between the moment I lost consciousness and the one soon to be discussed is mixed and vague. First there was a blue shimmering light that enveloped me in an intense sort of cool tingling. After that, there were voices, lots of voices. They were frantic at first, then I lost them. Next they were calm and brisk, than I lost them again. Each time I found the voices, I tried to hold onto them. I had to know how everything had turned out. But I knew that they would just grow quieter until I lost them again. It was utterly frustrating.
Finally, a different kind of awareness returned. I knew because that time, a transparent image of Lexei wasn't hovering before me, telling me that life was just a bowl of cherries, whatever those are. In fact, the place I found myself in was almost silent and completely dark. The only sound was the waltzing rhythm of my hearts. and. and the slow breaths of a presence, steady beside me.
Steady, Melai, I told myself. That's not necessarily a bad thing.
It was after running a quick inventory of my body that I deduced three things: I was not going to go unconscious again within the next thirty seconds as had been the theme so far, I was positioned comfortably on a soft horizontal surface, and the reason the room was dark was because my eyes were closed.
I drew up my eyelids slowly and was greeted by the image of an intensely fuzzy blur. After I willed myself to blink a few times, the blur focused into the face of Kathryn Janeway. A slow, wide grin appeared on her weary face.
"Doctor! She's coming around," she called over her shoulder.
I tried to speak and my words came out in a parched whisper. Janeway noticed and leaned over me, positioning her ear close to my mouth.
"Are you all right?" I repeated.
Janeway shot me a look of amazement.
"I'm fine!" she said. "I'm fine."
That's when the human-looking man with the exquisitely bald head appeared at my side out of nowhere. He waved a wand over me and made some noises as he looked at an odd contraption in his other hand. All the while, Janeway looked at him anxiously. He snapped his equipment shut with a triumphant smile.
"Congratulations, Ms. Krischta. You appear to have successfully cheated death."
Wow. Good for me.
The Doctor continued with some other puttering. I summoned my strength to prod Janeway for more.
"Others?"
"All here, including Slam and your Palaish friends."
"Oh, good. Where's here?"
"We're on Voyager. This is our sickbay."
Another new experience.
"Oh. my."
"Voyager beamed us out just as you lost consciousness. It's been about 36 hours for both of us."
"Shura?"
"Dead."
"And you, Captain, are still recovering from a nasty case of hemmoragenic/septic shock. Now back to bed, your little friend is in perfectly good hands."
Janeway glared at the Doctor.
"Say 'good night', Captain," he said a final tone.
Janeway twisted her mouth in defeat, then turned back to me, her hand on my forehead, smoothing back my stray bangs.
"Orders are orders. Sleep, Melai. You've done well."
The next morning, Slam was the first face I saw. Together we watched from my bed as Janeway slept on the other side of the room. For the following 24 hours, the Doctor refused to let either of us leave, despite my reassurances, as well as Janeway's once she woke up, that we really were feeling better. He remained firm that we both had to stay the day at least. Luckily, we had visitors to break the monotony. Slam was my shadow for the day, as well as the Palaish who came at intervals of about four hours. They really were good kids, telling excitedly of the things that they found on their travels through the wondrous ship and making sure that I had everything I needed. Chakotay, Torres, and even Tuvok came to see the captain, and bestow their polite regards on me. I watched with happiness the show of unspoken tenderness between them, there in their eyes, their tones, and their genuine concern.
On the third morning, I woke up to Janeway smiling down at me, and found the strength to sit up.
"How are you feeling?" Janeway asked.
I tugged the collar of the blue pajamas I was wearing forward and peered down at my chest. Where there should have been a grim wound barely on the way to healing, there was a pink scar only slightly bigger than a 2- credit coin.
"Incredible!"
Janeway grinned and offered me her hand.
"Come on. There's something I want you to see."
I took the offered hand and followed Janeway out of the room, into a gray carpeted hallway on my wobbly legs. Not five steps into our journey, we ran into Ensign Wildman. Next to her was a small yellow-haired girl.
"Good morning, Captain. May we have a moment?"
"Of coarse."
"Melai, this is my daughter Naomi. She has something for you."
Wildman smiled adoringly down at the girl who took a step forward and looked up at me.
"Thanks for helping save my mom."
With that, she held out a ruffled white flower in her little hand. I melted at the gesture. Her glowing face was such a sight.
"Thank you," I said, accepting her gift. "It's beautiful."
"It's a carnation. I grew it myself in the hydroponics bay."
"I'm sure you did. It's almost as pretty as you."
Naomi beamed and took of skipping. Janeway and Wildman exchanged a knowing glance.
"Go on Ensign, before she finds her way to the bridge."
"I'm glad you're both feeling better," Wildman called as she began chasing her daughter.
Janeway and I chuckled and started walking again.
"Now, that's the way it should be," I thought out loud.
"What is?"
"An innocent little girl surrounded by people who love her. Everyone should have that."
Janeway's face turned serious.
"Melai, there's no reason why you can't have that too."
"How do you mean?"
"I'm offering you asylum."
My jaw dropped and I stopped dead in my tracks until Janeway pulled me along.
"Wait a minute, my head is spinning!" I said, still in tow.
"Relax. Just consider the facts for a moment: Your home is no longer safe for you. You can find a new one on Voyager, become part of our family. But we are heading to the Alpha quadrant. We won't be seeing Rycose IV again."
"Gods, I. I don't know what to say!"
"Don't say anything just yet."
As we continued to walk, I was suddenly bombarded with pros and cons. Asylum on a starship of all places! And then to be with people who cared about me, away from the killing and carnage. It was a forgotten dream come true, and all I had to do was say yes.
So why was I so unsure?
We rounded a corner and slid into a room full of tables and chairs as well as a sort of kitchenette in the corner. I was then faced with the biggest window I've ever seen, splashed across the length of the wall. What was beyond the window made me freeze, suddenly unable to breathe.
There, all at once, was a glowing sphere hovering in a starry night sky, like one of the globes they had dangling from the ceiling in my geography classroom at the academy. The great seas, the northern mountains, the middle deserts. Places I knew, places I thought I'd never see. All lay before me at same time.
"Is that.?" I gasped.
"Rycose IV," Janeway confirmed.
". It's so. um. It's so small!"
"We're very far from the atmosphere."
"But." I walked closer to the window, entranced. "People fight over this? They kill over this? Borders that don't exist!"
"What did you think it would look like?"
"I don't know, I. Like a map, I suppose. I thought I could see where Madditah ends and Paland begins. Solid lines, barriers, at least different colors. It's just not there!"
Janeway came next to me and I felt her furrowed eyes on my wide ones.
"Is that so bad?"
"Yes! Don't you see? It's all us!"
"'Us'?"
"We think we kill and die for destiny, a destiny defined by the Gods as they made the world and all of its contours. Without those borders to tell one from the other, there is no destiny, not the way they think. People are dying over a shadow!"
Janeway emitted a sigh.
"So who's going to tell them?"
Finally, I was able to look away from the window. My eyes fell to the floor, found Janeway's black boots, drifted up her solidly planted body, and rested on her wonderful, thoughtful face.
"I am," I heard myself whisper. "I have to go back, don't I?"
Janeway said nothing, but smiled fondly at me and set a hand on the back of my neck, willing strength into me with her touch.
EPILOGUE
I turned and watched my band of nearly a hundred farmers, laborers, and ex-soldiers as they worked busily to erect a series of long cabins in the same vicinity as my house, a sort of village. They sawed and hammered and worked together --Palaish, Madditans, people from their different walks of life. It was nothing less than a miracle.
The situation before us was grim, but oddly hopeful. Gathered there in the outskirts, we had a community of people who had come from far and wide to contribute to a new cause. Our mission as Janeway had helped me design was to spread awareness of the lies behind the strife in the world as widely as we could, while promoting cooperation and trust in every way possible, as well as providing sanctuary to those in need. And who had fallen into the role of the leader of this revolution against the status quo?
"Melai, my lady! Is this to your satisfaction?" called one of the workers.
I half-smiled and examined her work.
Since the enthusiastic mass swearing of allegiance to Yours Truly, I'd been 'My Lady'. Try getting used to that.
Janeway and her team broke off from their meeting with Slam who, by the way, was working as a sort of foreman on the project.
"You're all set," Torres announced. "If everyone does their part, you'll have a neighborhood by the end of the week."
"Thank you," I said, looking to each one of them. "All of you. I'm. really going to mess you."
There was a pause, broken by Janeway.
"You all go ahead. I'll be along shortly."
Everyone nodded their understanding and then each came forward to bid me farewell in their own way: First Wildman who sincerely wished me the best, then Tuvok who held up a hand in a convoluted gesture and told me to live long and prosper. Torres grinned at me and said, "You'll be fine," as if sensing my apprehension. Chakotay was silent, but shook my hand, his gratitude obvious in his eyes.
"Transporter room. Four to beam up."
At Chakotay's command, they shimmered away. Only Janeway remained, her kind, genuine eyes on my face.
"Are you sure?" she said.
I took a breath.
"No. but I have to try."
Janeway looked at me the way my academy instructors used to when I did something right. From her though, it meant so much more.
"You know, now that I think of it, I don't think I ever actually thanked you for -"
"Don't," I interrupted. "Please don't. None of this would've gotten started without you. I would've died one way or the other, without doing a blessed thing. I never would've found the courage. And now, look at what we have. I owe you everything. You owe me nothing."
Janeway stared at me quietly. Finally, she lifted a hand to her collar. After removing the four pips, she took my hand, dropped them in my palm, gently pushed my fingers closed, and held my hand between both of hers.
"Melai of the Krischta family, you saved my life."
My throat tightened and I seized her in an embrace, which she returned just as forcefully.
"I have waited my entire life to hear that put to my name," I whispered in her ear. "I hope that you find your way. I'll never for get you."
"And I'll hold you in my heart. You deserve so much to see your dream come true."
We held on for another moment, then slowly released each other. Janeway took a step back and, never taking her eyes from mine, tapped her badge.
"Janeway to Voyager. One to beam up."
I watched the blue light shimmer her away, the woman who had changed my life and I would never see again. But somehow, I knew she'd always be with me.
With a sigh, I straightened up and fastened the four little pins to my collar.
"Slam," I called in my most authoritative voice. "Where are you? We need to assign teams for food gathering."
Today, two rotations after I met Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager, we have built a community known far and wide as "neutral territory", which is a start. Our numbers are now in the thousands, include people from all alliances, and grow every day. It hasn't always been easy. Sometimes differences of nationality still manage to cause differences of opinion among us. We've had to defend ourselves from governmental raids more than once. Such episodes have resulted another near-death for me, the loss of Slam's right eye, and the loss of Bergory all together. Bergory died bravely defending a small family last spring, and since then, we have shouted her name whenever battle calls.
Still, with all the grief and frustration, I can say with both my hearts that what we have here is something wonderful. I believe in these people, I believe in what we're doing. I believe that we can make the greatest difference the world has seen in generations, with the lives we've saved and the things we've built. I believe that the children who play in these new streets will grow up and make it even better. I believe that we can reach the stars.
I believe.
Speed of the Gods to you, Captain Janeway, wherever you may be.
THE END
There you have it. Did you like it? Please?
The Fed's were resourceful folks, I observed as I half-understood their schemes to improve Janeway's chances. The Palaish trio, Slam, and the Kleeds enthusiastically promised to help in any way they could. Even so, my hearts were heavy with the sense of foreboding that hung in the room like smoke. It was strange - Janeway seemed to be the only one who didn't give up a stitch of hope.
The middle of that night found me sitting on the cabinet below my window, elbows on the sill, chin on my fists as I stared at the snow beyond my front yard. Normally it was untouched except for my own tracks; the surfaces of the snowdrifts sparkling like glitter under the moonlight. That night it was a mess. The frantic feet of over a hundred soldiers had churned the once-perfect layer of white stillness into a rough, poisoned terrain. How dare they.
Everyone but the Fed's was asleep somewhere on my floor. Though my back was turned to them, I could tell you exactly what each one was doing: Torres would be puttering with her little contraption by the light of the fire in the stove. Tuvok was standing before my other window, keeping watch like a statue. Wildman would pace around the room, looking for small ways to contribute to the cause. Chakotay was trying relentlessly to get Janeway to rest. And Janeway, of coarse.
. startled the seven hells out of me by coming soundlessly up behind me and setting a hand on my shoulder. When our eyes met, she regarded me for a moment, her face hard to see in the flickering firelight, then took a seat next to me on the cabinet. I found that I was glad she did.
"I was right," I said quietly. "This is my last chance."
"You know, you've mentioned that several times and I still don't know what you mean."
"Actually. neither do I. I just want. to do something right. To mend some of the damage. To be someone that I'm proud of. I just don't know how. And just look what's going to happen tomorrow. There's nothing fair about it, nothing just, nothing good. And there's not a blessed thing I can do about it."
Janeway smiled and looked out the window, her eyes searching until they rested on the stars.
"Back on Earth many, many years ago, there were two countries that fought each other for a hundred years. Countless people died and still neither side was willing to stand down. England wouldn't give up its sights on France, France refused to let itself be occupied. It went on with no end in sight. And then a girl like you, a peasant named Joan found her way to the king of France and convinced him to let her lead an army against the English in a battle at the city of Orleans. She herself kept fighting in that battle even after she was wounded."
"What happened?"
"She led France's armies to some important victories, drove the English back. The war ended largely because of her."
"That's beautiful," I said, then frowned. "What happened to Joan?"
The way that Janeway's gaze floated down to the snow hinted somehow that she'd been hoping to omit that part of the story.
"She was captured and killed publicly not long before the war ended. Five hundred years later, she was made a saint."
"Now that's not fair. It sounds like if anybody should've seen the end of that war, it was her."
"The point is that Joan of Arc was someone who had to earn everything she had: Respect, honor, everyone who believed in her. There were a lot of reasons for her not to succeed, but she did because she believed in herself."
I looked at her sadly.
"I'm not her," I said, genuinely sorry for the fact. "I wish I were. I wish. I wish I were like you."
"Me?" Janeway said, amazed. "Melai, I'm lost in the Delta quadrant with 150 people as my responsibility. We face death at every corner, we may never see our home again, and you're envious of me?"
"You have a gift," I broke in. "You're special, like Joan. I knew it the first time I saw you. And just to see the way your people look at you, I can see your courage and compassion and grace. You are so. good. I'd give anything to have what you have, Janeway. Anything."
Janeway finally looked at me again. When she did, she reached a hand and set it on the back of my neck.
"You are something, Melai of the Krischta family. I wish that you could see yourself the way I do. You are the kind of person who's willing to try for something more. Because of people like you, worlds change. I've seen it."
"Boy, what you don't know about Rycose IV is a lot."
Janeway smiled, shaking her head.
"And what you don't know about possibilities is a lot."
I smiled back.
"Gods, I hope you're right."
Janeway laughed and hugged an arm around my shoulders. I sat with her like that through the rest of the night, content for the moment in the presence of a friend, and finding incredibly that I almost believed her. Almost.
Dawn came too soon, as we all knew it would. Everyone was awake by then, those who'd been able to sleep only having accomplished a restless few hours. The mood in the hovel was tense and silent, everyone just waiting to hear the first cavalry scuzzlebat's steps in the snow. As we waited, all eyes rested on Janeway, strong steady Janeway who stood straight before the window, staring indifferently out over the snow.
Abruptly, she turned and addressed the group.
"I can't ask any of you to participate in this. It doesn't have to be your fight. I know that all of you have more at stake than we do. You're the ones who call this place your home. If anyone's having any doubts, now's the time to say it."
Janeway scanned every Rycosian face, her eyes slightly lingering on mine. Gods, the woman had guts. That's when I was startled to find that everyone's look had shifted to me, so I'd better say something.
"That's just it, isn't it?" I said slowly. "This is my fight if it's anybody's. I cannot take your place in the bashahm, but I can make Shura know that I'm part of it."
"Our fight," Slam backed me. "It should've been ours rotations ago. If Shura's still standing by the time the day is over, he'll swear that there were ten thousand of us instead of ten."
Janeway sighed in defeat, then went on.
"Whatever happens today, we'll be in it together."
"Captain."
Janeway went to the window before which Tuvok was still standing. The slight change in her otherwise set expression told me the moment she saw what he had seen. The rest of us crowded around, standing on our toes to see over each other's heads.
The horizon was nothing but the shadows of body-to-body soldiers. Wave after wave of them appeared and advanced toward us across the plain.
"Son of a bitch," Chakotay swore.
"B'Elanna, how's your secret weapon?"
"All set, Captain," Torres said and passed Janeway the strangely shaped silver pin that she'd been fiddling with all night. "I just wish I'd been able to test it."
"That's all right, you've done well. What about the beacon to Voyager?"
"Up and running. It's just a matter of time before they pick it up."
"Time. That's something we're lacking at the moment."
"I'll hold out, Chakotay," Janeway said. "Whatever it takes."
"Janeway of Voyager," Shura's voice resonated in the air. "The bashahm starts now."
The Earther's jaw muscles bunched as she ground her teeth in anger and determination. Slowly, she crossed to the door and slid outside with the rest of us filing quietly out behind her. All 13 of us, even little Tieghy stood there before what we found to be an entire Madditan legion standing in its ranks not 150 paces from my door. And just before the center of the front line, perched on the back of an impossibly grand scuzzlebat, Shura.
"Face me here, off-worlder!" he called.
At the last echo of his voice, I heard a sound of many distant footsteps in the snow. Suddenly, rows and rows of peasants occupied both edges of my peripheral vision, lined up as though on either side of a street on a parade route, though I saw not one unheavy face among them.
Well, wasn't that Shura to a T? He'd brought them all there to further break their spirits. After all, what good was a power show with only a handful of brainwashed lackeys to see it? From then on, the point would be made: No one challenged the Builder Shura. No one, no matter what part of the universe they were from. Any who did would die an ugly death, just like this.
Amazingly though, Janeway was unfazed. She held up a hand to signal her group of backers to stay where we were and boldly walked a dangerous distance toward the center of the giant humanoid square.
"I ask that this end before it begins. I will not be subdued without a fight, but I want nothing less than to see people hurt here today. Let it be known that my people came with cooperative intentions and then were lured in and ambushed by authorities. Melai of the Krischta family, the one the same authorities have labeled a coward, had the courage to help us because she listened to her hearts. You can do the same thing. It doesn't have to be this way."
"Enough! Your off-worlder tactics will not save you in the Republic of Madditah!" Shura screeched like a war cry.
Apparently, Commander Chakotay felt as I did: Damned if we were going to let Janeway be thrown to the razorbeasts. Both of us jogged to catch up with Janeway. By her side, I gave in to temptation and took the floor.
"Look at yourselves! Don't you see what's happening? There's nothing to be gained from this, no challenge, no honor. It's murder, just like it's always been! We spend our lives killing, watching our friends die alongside people who never wronged us, but we still call our enemies. Why? Because it's all we know? Because we're afraid of the Builders? That shouldn't be! Look around you, everyone! We have everything we need. If we don't stop these wars, they will go on until even that is gone. All of you, in your hearts know I'm right. Stand here with me now. This could be your last chance."
The way the tirade poured out of me startled me even more than it did everyone else. Nothing happened at first. Then, in the corner of my eye, there was halting movement. Looking over my shoulder, I found someone no more that a boy edging his way toward our group as though trying not to be noticed.
Someone noticed.
A bent old woman followed the boy. A middle-aged couple followed her, and then a young family. Slowly, one by one, they trickled over. Soon the trickle became a stream, and the stream a river. By the end, nearly half the peasants had settled in behind us.
Janeway watched with an awed smile. To me it was a damn miracle. Shura on the other hand was turning a dangerously bright red as his fury threatened to overtake him.
"How dare you!? I am the Builder Shura! You are not worthy of knowing the light of the Gods, none of you are! You will all die in darkness!"
"That's not going to work, Shura. You don't hold these people in fear. Not any more."
To my surprise, my retort was followed by a cheer from the crowd behind me. After watching Shura shrink several cm's, Janeway and I exchanged a knowing glance. We had him. If he went through the bashahm, he faced the first fair fight of his life. If not, everyone would see what a fraud he was. I'll admit that part of me wanted him to go through with it, to see him humiliated and suffering. But that part was not as big as the one that couldn't help feeling sorry for him, and just wanted it all to end.
"Stand down, Shura. Don't be a fool, it's not worth these people's lives."
"Demon," Shura growled back at Janeway. "You are weak. And a few farmers are not going to save you! Form your lines!"
Slowly, reluctantly, the soldiers shifted their ranks into two long, parallel lines some four paces apart: A gauntlet for Janeway to run. Janeway turned and spoke to her people.
"Show time. B'Elanna, are you ready?"
"It's as good as I can make it, Captain."
The line of Janeway's mouth slanted. "Then it's as good as it gets. Melai, if you'd direct everyone to their place?"
I nodded blankly and arranged the Fed's and peasants into the same pattern as the soldiers. Even with the peasants, our lines were painfully shorter. Janeway and Shura took their places at the ends of their respective ordeals. To her credit, Janeway was looking remarkably composed despite her unsteady condition. Shura on the other hand was as pale as the snow and his baldhead glistened with sweat.
"Perhaps I'll see you on the other side," Janeway told him.
"You'll die in five paces, Earther," Shura growled back.
The referee who stood near me at the end of the gauntlets fired a small handgun into the air and the bashahm began.
"B'Elanna, now!" Chakotay called.
As Janeway ran to meet the gauntlet's beginning, she and Torres simultaneously slapped the silver pins they wore on their jackets. That's when Janeway began to sparkle with a bright blue light. Before my eyes, her image became transparent, and then disappeared. The poor fools at the beginning of the line had only air to swing at. Just as quickly, Janeway shimmered back into existence a comfortable distance from the end of her would-be ordeal, leaving every Rycosian present to blink at the phenomenon.
Meanwhile, Shura made a mad dash down our lines in an attempt to plow through. It worked for a bit, but the first half managed to slow him down enough for the rest of us to get some good whacks on him. By the time he collapsed facedown out of the end of the gauntlet, he was bleeding from the nose, lips, and eye socket, had a shoulder dropped into an unnatural position, and numerous black and blue marks covering the exposed parts of his skin. When he lifted his face to spit out some blood and snow, he saw Janeway towering over him unscathed.
"You." he said, full of venom.
"It's called a site-to-site transport. You might know about it if you put some effort into something other than killing."
"Bad form!" Shura screamed as he tripped up to his wobbly legs. "You can't just -!"
"You know the rules, Builder Shura. She made it from one end of your lines to the other. The ancient texts say nothing about how to do it," I reminded him.
Shura broke in with a viscous war cry. Without another word, he launched himself at Janeway and caught her around the body, bowling her to the ground. Janeway landed in the snow with a thud as the wind was forced from her lungs. Shura moved to crush her chest with a stomp of his foot. Janeway rolled out of the way and straight up to her feet. There they both assumed semi-crouched defensive positions and slowly circled each other as everyone trickled into a large, crowded ring around them.
"Stay back! Any who interfere will be shot!" the referee yelled.
Shura attempted a series of twitch-fakes. Janeway's iron concentration remained untouched, save for the slightest reflexive counter movements. Shura's lip curled back into the ugliest smile I've ever seen. Janeway grimaced slightly, but remained composed. Through it all, the crowd was silent, each and every one of us praying to the Gods and our ancestors that Janeway would be the one left standing in the end.
Shura ran at her again. In one smooth, graceful move, Janeway pivoted out of the way while simultaneously sending him into the ground with a little push to back up his own momentum. Shura rolled easily to his feet and went for Janeway again. Again she fed him to the snow. The sequence repeated itself three more times. By then, I was beginning to wonder just how long the tedium would continue before Shura got it into his head that a bonsai charge was not going to work. On his third trip to the ground, he lost his balance and landed sprawled on his back. Janeway was on him instantly, delivering a fierce kick to the side of his head. Shura recovered from the shock too quickly and was back up on his feet in a flash. At an impasse, they circled each other again.
"Kill him, Earther! Wallop him!" someone yelled.
An enthusiastic cheer erupted. In a rage, Shura swung at Janeway wildly. She ducked, dodged, and countered, landing a hard hook to his belly. He coughed at the impact and staggered back in a doubled-over position. He abruptly unfurled and swung aimless punches at Janeway. That's when the terrible thing happened, and by sheer accident too.
Shura's viscous fist slammed directly into the site of Janeway's wound.
Janeway gasped and fell to her knees, then onto her side. She curled around the wound, petrified by the pain, grinding her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. Shura squinted down at her, towering on his unsteady feet, and that hideous grin of his appeared again. He ran to Janeway and delivered a kick to the same place. This drew a deep roar from her and sent her rolling to her other side. I was horrified to see a deep red stain left in the snow where Janeway had just been. Shura dove on top of her and ensnared her throat in his hands, squeezing with all his might.
"No!" different people screamed at various intervals.
Janeway coughed and struggled to breathe past the two clamps on her throat as she lay pinned on her back, her face quickly turning a dangerous shade of red. In trying to pull Shura's hands away, she managed to turn her face toward the cluster of Feds and myself. She opened her eyes and saw us, saw that her comrades hurt to see her hurt, as she could not breathe, neither could they. In that instant, she knew that they bore any equivalent of what she did, as did I. She knew, and she wouldn't have it.
Janeway's hands flew from Shura's wrists to his fingers. She wormed her index fingers under Shura's pinkies. With all her strength, she peeled those fingers back until the fantastic crack that must've flooded the entire valley, second only to Shura's scream.
Shura reflexively fell back from the shock, gaping at his misshapen and crippled hands. Janeway seized the opportunity to roll to her own feet. She regained her balance before Shura did, and flew at him with a series of ferocious blows to his head and belly, emitting a loud roar with each. Though I don't believe Janeway was concerned with methods at the time, her actions proved to be quite efficient. By the end, a bloodied Shura was down on his knees, his head at just the right level to receive the maximum force of Janeway's kick. His head flew backwards, taking his body with it, and he was flat on his back. Janeway staggered towards him, gathering momentum for her pounce.
"No!" Shura squealed frantically. "No, don't! I yield! I yield!"
Janeway stopped dead in her tracks. Frozen mid-stride, she stared fiercely down at him, her shoulders heaving with her fast, deep breath. And her eyes. My Gods, her eyes were primal, wide and wild and unblinking even as the sweat dripped into them.
"I said I yield!" Shura begged.
Chakotay quietly slid between the people in his way and went to stand behind Janeway.
"Captain."
At the sound of his steady voice, Janeway's eyes broke from Shura's. She turned slowly around and looked up into the face of her first officer.
"You won. He's beaten. It's over."
Janeway's brow furrowed and her eyes drifted downwards.
"That's. fffortunate."
Janeway's legs gave way and she collapsed into Chakotay.
"Wildman, Tuvok, quickly! She's hemorrhaging!" Chakotay yelled as he eased her deftly to the ground.
Half the crowd erupted into cheers over Janeway's triumph, while the rest crossed their hearts in worried silence. I myself suddenly felt a wave of fatigue as the adrenaline that had kept my senses in overdrive for the past several days rapidly dissipated. My legs disappeared under me and I fell to my knees. It was over. It was really over. Shura would never hold us in terror again. Of course, he would be succeeded by one of the Builders, but the damage was done to their entire reign. All of these people, the peasants, the soldiers and what they'd seen. What they knew would spread like wildfire. The people could grow bold; the soldiers could grow brains!
"Melai, he's got a gun!" Tieghy's thin little voice trumpeted above all other noise.
My head snapped up and I saw Shura on his feet, his face the color of blood, his eyes as round as the full moons, his teeth bared, and a pistol in his mangled hand. The weapon, which he must've had hidden his clothing the entire time, was trained carefully on where Janeway lay in the snow amidst the huddle of her crew.
The most inspiring thing happened then: I stopped thinking. It's really quite amazing how fast and how much you can do when you're unburdened with thought. While I don't recommend it most of the time, I will say that acting without thinking can be quite appropriate. Over the next few moments, I moved through a fog of non-thought, motivated only by the inferno that burned in my hearts and pulsed through my body when I looked at Shura. I let out the most beast-like cry that I ever could have imagined coming from a person. I launched myself from where I knelt and ran with all my might at Shura.
The Builder fired.
Being shot between the hearts is, for lack of a better word, dazzling, not to mention another new experience. After the initial sledge hammer-like impact on my chest, there was no pain at all. There was only a kind of warm numbness that immediately cascaded over me, protecting me, even when the impact of the blast threw me into the ground. I lay there, vaguely acknowledging the hundreds of enraged cries rising around me. Tuvok, Torres, and Slam were suddenly around me. When Slam raised my head to rest in his lap, I caught a glimpse of my chest: An area just to the left of my sternum bore an impressive wound, strikingly similar to the one that killed Lexei. It was surreal, almost as though I were watching the finale of some hokey B-play unfold.
"Melai, can you hear me?" Tuvok demanded urgently.
The image of my friend suddenly filled my mind. I couldn't see her, could barely look around.
". Janeway?"
"She was not struck. You, however, obviously were."
". Please," I whispered, remembering the situation, "h-help me stand."
"You must be still. Focus on the sound of my voice. It is vital that you stay conscious."
I shook my trembling head and swallowed the bitter tang of the blood rising in my throat.
". You don't understand. please. no time."
Images around me were rapidly blurring, but I held on long enough to see the Feds exchange a grim glance just before the two of them and Slam ever so deftly hauled me to my feet. Even then, they supported most of my weight. Shura still stood some ten paces before me, but his face had dropped from wild to completely slack. His hand limply held the pistol, barely tight enough to keep it from dropping.
Impossible. This couldn't be the man who'd held the world in such horror, who'd willed the death of so many. Not this deflated, quivering mudfish I saw before me!
"Say what you have to say," Torres told me.
I swallowed and gathered my strength.
"You. will never h-hurt. another soul. Not these people. or the off- worlders. the Palaish, the Unions. or me. You are dead to me."
Shura's eyes suddenly came to life and seared into me.
"I am the Builder Shura! The Builder Shura never dies!"
Almost all within the same instant, Shura launched himself at me, an energy shot from some still-anonymous person lit the area at his back, he froze, and he fell.
My own legs failed me and the Feds lowered me to the ground.
"Melai? Melai!" I heard Slam's frantic voice.
"Melai, hold on. I'm getting a signal from Voyager."
". must remain conscious a few minutes more."
". come on, stay with us."
The voices of Slam and the Feds began to melt together with the brew- ha-ha around us, and my vision steadily dimmed. Over the following few minutes, while my companions struggled to keep me focused above the din of the hysterical crowd, I remember being vaguely aware of the fact that I was dying. All I could feel was one of my hearts hammering away at my chest and skull, as well as an almost overwhelming sort of giddy sensation. I know it sounds sick, but the blood rapidly escaping my chest despite the pressure of Tuvok's hand seized me with an urge to laugh. Not just because I was dying, but because I was dying and in some strange way, the most important way, I was all right.
Soon, even that awareness faded. The sounds faded. The faces faded. I faded.
I laughed.
Since it's obvious that I didn't die, I won't insult your intelligence with melodrama. What I remember about the period between the moment I lost consciousness and the one soon to be discussed is mixed and vague. First there was a blue shimmering light that enveloped me in an intense sort of cool tingling. After that, there were voices, lots of voices. They were frantic at first, then I lost them. Next they were calm and brisk, than I lost them again. Each time I found the voices, I tried to hold onto them. I had to know how everything had turned out. But I knew that they would just grow quieter until I lost them again. It was utterly frustrating.
Finally, a different kind of awareness returned. I knew because that time, a transparent image of Lexei wasn't hovering before me, telling me that life was just a bowl of cherries, whatever those are. In fact, the place I found myself in was almost silent and completely dark. The only sound was the waltzing rhythm of my hearts. and. and the slow breaths of a presence, steady beside me.
Steady, Melai, I told myself. That's not necessarily a bad thing.
It was after running a quick inventory of my body that I deduced three things: I was not going to go unconscious again within the next thirty seconds as had been the theme so far, I was positioned comfortably on a soft horizontal surface, and the reason the room was dark was because my eyes were closed.
I drew up my eyelids slowly and was greeted by the image of an intensely fuzzy blur. After I willed myself to blink a few times, the blur focused into the face of Kathryn Janeway. A slow, wide grin appeared on her weary face.
"Doctor! She's coming around," she called over her shoulder.
I tried to speak and my words came out in a parched whisper. Janeway noticed and leaned over me, positioning her ear close to my mouth.
"Are you all right?" I repeated.
Janeway shot me a look of amazement.
"I'm fine!" she said. "I'm fine."
That's when the human-looking man with the exquisitely bald head appeared at my side out of nowhere. He waved a wand over me and made some noises as he looked at an odd contraption in his other hand. All the while, Janeway looked at him anxiously. He snapped his equipment shut with a triumphant smile.
"Congratulations, Ms. Krischta. You appear to have successfully cheated death."
Wow. Good for me.
The Doctor continued with some other puttering. I summoned my strength to prod Janeway for more.
"Others?"
"All here, including Slam and your Palaish friends."
"Oh, good. Where's here?"
"We're on Voyager. This is our sickbay."
Another new experience.
"Oh. my."
"Voyager beamed us out just as you lost consciousness. It's been about 36 hours for both of us."
"Shura?"
"Dead."
"And you, Captain, are still recovering from a nasty case of hemmoragenic/septic shock. Now back to bed, your little friend is in perfectly good hands."
Janeway glared at the Doctor.
"Say 'good night', Captain," he said a final tone.
Janeway twisted her mouth in defeat, then turned back to me, her hand on my forehead, smoothing back my stray bangs.
"Orders are orders. Sleep, Melai. You've done well."
The next morning, Slam was the first face I saw. Together we watched from my bed as Janeway slept on the other side of the room. For the following 24 hours, the Doctor refused to let either of us leave, despite my reassurances, as well as Janeway's once she woke up, that we really were feeling better. He remained firm that we both had to stay the day at least. Luckily, we had visitors to break the monotony. Slam was my shadow for the day, as well as the Palaish who came at intervals of about four hours. They really were good kids, telling excitedly of the things that they found on their travels through the wondrous ship and making sure that I had everything I needed. Chakotay, Torres, and even Tuvok came to see the captain, and bestow their polite regards on me. I watched with happiness the show of unspoken tenderness between them, there in their eyes, their tones, and their genuine concern.
On the third morning, I woke up to Janeway smiling down at me, and found the strength to sit up.
"How are you feeling?" Janeway asked.
I tugged the collar of the blue pajamas I was wearing forward and peered down at my chest. Where there should have been a grim wound barely on the way to healing, there was a pink scar only slightly bigger than a 2- credit coin.
"Incredible!"
Janeway grinned and offered me her hand.
"Come on. There's something I want you to see."
I took the offered hand and followed Janeway out of the room, into a gray carpeted hallway on my wobbly legs. Not five steps into our journey, we ran into Ensign Wildman. Next to her was a small yellow-haired girl.
"Good morning, Captain. May we have a moment?"
"Of coarse."
"Melai, this is my daughter Naomi. She has something for you."
Wildman smiled adoringly down at the girl who took a step forward and looked up at me.
"Thanks for helping save my mom."
With that, she held out a ruffled white flower in her little hand. I melted at the gesture. Her glowing face was such a sight.
"Thank you," I said, accepting her gift. "It's beautiful."
"It's a carnation. I grew it myself in the hydroponics bay."
"I'm sure you did. It's almost as pretty as you."
Naomi beamed and took of skipping. Janeway and Wildman exchanged a knowing glance.
"Go on Ensign, before she finds her way to the bridge."
"I'm glad you're both feeling better," Wildman called as she began chasing her daughter.
Janeway and I chuckled and started walking again.
"Now, that's the way it should be," I thought out loud.
"What is?"
"An innocent little girl surrounded by people who love her. Everyone should have that."
Janeway's face turned serious.
"Melai, there's no reason why you can't have that too."
"How do you mean?"
"I'm offering you asylum."
My jaw dropped and I stopped dead in my tracks until Janeway pulled me along.
"Wait a minute, my head is spinning!" I said, still in tow.
"Relax. Just consider the facts for a moment: Your home is no longer safe for you. You can find a new one on Voyager, become part of our family. But we are heading to the Alpha quadrant. We won't be seeing Rycose IV again."
"Gods, I. I don't know what to say!"
"Don't say anything just yet."
As we continued to walk, I was suddenly bombarded with pros and cons. Asylum on a starship of all places! And then to be with people who cared about me, away from the killing and carnage. It was a forgotten dream come true, and all I had to do was say yes.
So why was I so unsure?
We rounded a corner and slid into a room full of tables and chairs as well as a sort of kitchenette in the corner. I was then faced with the biggest window I've ever seen, splashed across the length of the wall. What was beyond the window made me freeze, suddenly unable to breathe.
There, all at once, was a glowing sphere hovering in a starry night sky, like one of the globes they had dangling from the ceiling in my geography classroom at the academy. The great seas, the northern mountains, the middle deserts. Places I knew, places I thought I'd never see. All lay before me at same time.
"Is that.?" I gasped.
"Rycose IV," Janeway confirmed.
". It's so. um. It's so small!"
"We're very far from the atmosphere."
"But." I walked closer to the window, entranced. "People fight over this? They kill over this? Borders that don't exist!"
"What did you think it would look like?"
"I don't know, I. Like a map, I suppose. I thought I could see where Madditah ends and Paland begins. Solid lines, barriers, at least different colors. It's just not there!"
Janeway came next to me and I felt her furrowed eyes on my wide ones.
"Is that so bad?"
"Yes! Don't you see? It's all us!"
"'Us'?"
"We think we kill and die for destiny, a destiny defined by the Gods as they made the world and all of its contours. Without those borders to tell one from the other, there is no destiny, not the way they think. People are dying over a shadow!"
Janeway emitted a sigh.
"So who's going to tell them?"
Finally, I was able to look away from the window. My eyes fell to the floor, found Janeway's black boots, drifted up her solidly planted body, and rested on her wonderful, thoughtful face.
"I am," I heard myself whisper. "I have to go back, don't I?"
Janeway said nothing, but smiled fondly at me and set a hand on the back of my neck, willing strength into me with her touch.
EPILOGUE
I turned and watched my band of nearly a hundred farmers, laborers, and ex-soldiers as they worked busily to erect a series of long cabins in the same vicinity as my house, a sort of village. They sawed and hammered and worked together --Palaish, Madditans, people from their different walks of life. It was nothing less than a miracle.
The situation before us was grim, but oddly hopeful. Gathered there in the outskirts, we had a community of people who had come from far and wide to contribute to a new cause. Our mission as Janeway had helped me design was to spread awareness of the lies behind the strife in the world as widely as we could, while promoting cooperation and trust in every way possible, as well as providing sanctuary to those in need. And who had fallen into the role of the leader of this revolution against the status quo?
"Melai, my lady! Is this to your satisfaction?" called one of the workers.
I half-smiled and examined her work.
Since the enthusiastic mass swearing of allegiance to Yours Truly, I'd been 'My Lady'. Try getting used to that.
Janeway and her team broke off from their meeting with Slam who, by the way, was working as a sort of foreman on the project.
"You're all set," Torres announced. "If everyone does their part, you'll have a neighborhood by the end of the week."
"Thank you," I said, looking to each one of them. "All of you. I'm. really going to mess you."
There was a pause, broken by Janeway.
"You all go ahead. I'll be along shortly."
Everyone nodded their understanding and then each came forward to bid me farewell in their own way: First Wildman who sincerely wished me the best, then Tuvok who held up a hand in a convoluted gesture and told me to live long and prosper. Torres grinned at me and said, "You'll be fine," as if sensing my apprehension. Chakotay was silent, but shook my hand, his gratitude obvious in his eyes.
"Transporter room. Four to beam up."
At Chakotay's command, they shimmered away. Only Janeway remained, her kind, genuine eyes on my face.
"Are you sure?" she said.
I took a breath.
"No. but I have to try."
Janeway looked at me the way my academy instructors used to when I did something right. From her though, it meant so much more.
"You know, now that I think of it, I don't think I ever actually thanked you for -"
"Don't," I interrupted. "Please don't. None of this would've gotten started without you. I would've died one way or the other, without doing a blessed thing. I never would've found the courage. And now, look at what we have. I owe you everything. You owe me nothing."
Janeway stared at me quietly. Finally, she lifted a hand to her collar. After removing the four pips, she took my hand, dropped them in my palm, gently pushed my fingers closed, and held my hand between both of hers.
"Melai of the Krischta family, you saved my life."
My throat tightened and I seized her in an embrace, which she returned just as forcefully.
"I have waited my entire life to hear that put to my name," I whispered in her ear. "I hope that you find your way. I'll never for get you."
"And I'll hold you in my heart. You deserve so much to see your dream come true."
We held on for another moment, then slowly released each other. Janeway took a step back and, never taking her eyes from mine, tapped her badge.
"Janeway to Voyager. One to beam up."
I watched the blue light shimmer her away, the woman who had changed my life and I would never see again. But somehow, I knew she'd always be with me.
With a sigh, I straightened up and fastened the four little pins to my collar.
"Slam," I called in my most authoritative voice. "Where are you? We need to assign teams for food gathering."
Today, two rotations after I met Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager, we have built a community known far and wide as "neutral territory", which is a start. Our numbers are now in the thousands, include people from all alliances, and grow every day. It hasn't always been easy. Sometimes differences of nationality still manage to cause differences of opinion among us. We've had to defend ourselves from governmental raids more than once. Such episodes have resulted another near-death for me, the loss of Slam's right eye, and the loss of Bergory all together. Bergory died bravely defending a small family last spring, and since then, we have shouted her name whenever battle calls.
Still, with all the grief and frustration, I can say with both my hearts that what we have here is something wonderful. I believe in these people, I believe in what we're doing. I believe that we can make the greatest difference the world has seen in generations, with the lives we've saved and the things we've built. I believe that the children who play in these new streets will grow up and make it even better. I believe that we can reach the stars.
I believe.
Speed of the Gods to you, Captain Janeway, wherever you may be.
THE END
There you have it. Did you like it? Please?