chapter thirty seven : on the edge of a knife

The flaming wreck of the Delta Flyer was growing larger in her field of vision. Janeway ran like she'd never run before. B'Elanna wrenched the door open and jumped into the light, her pike at ready. A sudden relief rushed through her, but it was brief. B'Elanna was alright, but what about Tom? God, if the Maldorians had done anything to harm a single member of her crew, she'd kill them, she'd hunt them down to the last—

Something in Torres' expression changed; it was the only warning she got before she felt the impact: the impact of something hitting her hard in the back, throwing her off balance. A rock, she thought, someone's thrown a rock at me! She fell to her knees and wondered why she was feeling so strange; looking down, she realized that there was something wrong with her chest armour as well.

Then it struck her: I've been speared! The serrated edge of the pike was sticking out of her breastplate. Dazed, she grabbed at it with both her hands and pulled as hard as she could. The pike tore from her body; it was a short one. She gazed at the blood-slicked object in her hand with something akin to amusement. This thing went through me? In the background she could hear Torres screaming, but she didn't really care. She was floating. Or maybe the world was spinning. So, is this the end? Dying feels stranger than I thought it would. She didn't really care. Her vision was turning white; and as she slid to the ground she reached outward. Chakotay…

"Trouble? What sort?" Chakotay demanded of Kes.

Kes' eyes were closed in concentration. "They need our help. The Flyer—it's been shot down."

"Sir," said Kim abruptly, "we've just got an emergency transport from the Delta Flyer. It's Tom."

Chakotay glanced at him. "B'Elanna?"

"Unknown."

There was no time to hesitate. "Subcommander Terenni will take charge up here. Take us to the surface."

The crew complied without question. Voyager dived down towards the deceptively peaceful blue planet beneath them, whilst the battle raged on behind them. The tide was turning. The tide was turning. Chakotay returned to his chair. Now it was time to help Torres—

Janeway's voice sounded in his head. Chakotay…

She was in trouble. He could feel it immediately. Kathryn! He tried to reach out to her mentally, but he couldn't connect to her. Sudden panic flooded his mind. What had happened on the surface? He tried to reach someone else: Torres, maybe; who else on the crew was fighting on the surface? Seven? But he could reach none of them; he wasn't as skilled yet. Kes? What's going on?

The captain has been badly hurt. You must try to help her. I will call for Myriam.

Badly hurt… He didn't know what Kes had meant by that, but he knew it was serious. KATHRYN! He shouted frantically. He didn't care if the whole Eminent fleet could hear him. The only thing that mattered was that if she heard him. Please, let her hear me…

Then, her reply. Chakotay. I'm here. I'm holding on for as long as I can, but I don't know how long this will last… her voice faded off.

Kathryn! Don't leave me.

I'm still here.

And then he was standing beside her, somehow. She was standing of the edge of a cliff and slipping. Dimly he was aware of the presence of Voyager's bridge somewhere in the real world. A Vision Quest then? He turned towards her. "I'm here with you."

Janeway nodded. At that moment the ground beneath her crumbled, and she fell. "Kathryn!" he shouted, and seized her hand with one arm. Her weight nearly dragged him over the edge as well, but he dug his elbows in as he hit the ground and pulled backwards. Pain flared up from along his arm—imaginary pain, he knew, probably simulating all the mental effort he was putting in to keeping her here, in this plane of reality.

I won't let you fall, he swore. I won't.

"Give me your other hand," he told her.

She reached out and placed her hand in his. Now he slowly pulled her upwards. If done physically, he was sure it would have been an easy task—she weighed so little in real life—but here, he was really struggling just getting her over the edge, much less onto safety. He thought about healing techniques but it didn't help. He would have to metaphysically get her back to safety.

The effort was draining him. By using his knees and elbows he had managed to wriggle half a meter back, so that her hands were now level with the cliff surface, but that was far from enough. Worse still, the edge of the cliff looked like it was about to start crumbling again. This time, it could pitch them both over the edge.

He needed help.

"Leave me," said Janeway firmly. "Focus on the battle." When Chakotay didn't comply, she added, "That's an order."

"Then I'm afraid you're going to have to court-martial me. I'm not leaving you… not until we get you… up here." He pulled harder again, this time pulling her wrists past the threshold of the cliff edge. "See, we'll get there eventually."

Nayrn was fighting for her life. The seraphim children were nowhere as skilled as she, but they were strong, and they fought well together.  She had so far managed to deflect the bolts of energy they had struck at her, but they had done the same to the energy she had struck at them. It was frustrating. Where were all her guards?

A figure appeared at the end of the corridor. Jackelyn! "Help me!" she implored at her daughter.

Jackelyn looked uncertainly at the seraphim twins. Falda turned and shot a blaze of coruscating Fire energy at her. As a wielder of Ocher Fire, she was slightly more adept than Jackelyn, but her brother was only a wielder of Saffron Fire, and evenly matched. With the might of Nayrn's Purple Ice, the two of them could defeat the twins, put them in their place. "They are no match for us!" she insisted.

Jackelyn nodded, and extended the force pike she'd been keeping by her side. She charged at the twins and unleashed a concentrated blue bolt of Ice energy at Falkner. He ducked, leaving Falda open to attack. While Nayrn let one at Falda, Jackelyn aimed at Falkner again. He was too busy trying to protect his sister to notice the bolt of energy heading for him.

But the blue bolt was deflected abruptly by a lithe figure which seemingly appeared from nowhere. The wolfchild landed, crouched on all fours, teeth bared at her half sister. "They may be no match for you," she snarled viciously, "but neither are you a match for me." And then she let fly with a powerful bolt that Jackelyn barely had time to duck from. The edge of it caught her fine auburn hair and set it on fire. With a yelp Jackelyn beat out the flames.

The wolfchild inserted herself between the twins and Jackelyn. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," she said.

Jackelyn turned and ran.

Things were not looking good. Now the wolfchild and the seraphim twins regrouped to face her. She could see the anger, surpressed in court, burning fresh in her eyes. Things were not looking good. She had to find some way out. Nayrn glanced around her. She was the Eminent! She could not be defeated by mere children. She would find a way out. She would…

Yes. She saw it. The secret passageways left behind by their predecessors. Few knew of their presense, and even lesser knew how to activate it. As a matter of fact, only one could open those passageways: the Eminent herself. The one who wielded the Ring. Backing away from the trio, she focused her energies on the intricate band around her wrist. It started to glow, and she could feel one of the conduits snaking through the fabric of space-time curve towards her. Yes…

Behind her, a terrible swirling vortex opened, whipping a gale into the narrow confines of the corridor. The children staggered back from her, awe in their eyes. Yes. Let them fear her. Let them realize that they had engaged a foe far beyond their ken. After this battle was over she would make sure they paid dearly for this transgression.

With a smile of victory she cast herself backwards into the vortex. She heard the wolfchild cry, "She's getting away!" but it was too late for them to do anything. The vortex swirled around her, speaking to her, infusing her with power. In her mind's eye she saw the map of the entire Eminent Palace, resplendent in the heart of Licknok Moor. Take me to the throne room.

The vortex curved obediently and brought her to the throne room. Its arrival ripped the new tapestries she'd installed yesterday, and her favorite one fell into one of the ponds, but such details were trivial. First, the battle…

The servants attending to the room scattered as she arrived amongst them. Nayrn could taste their fear and uncertainty. Privately she was furious. Did they doubt her ability to bring the situation back under control? She would make sure they paid for this. Yes, they would all pay.

She gritted her teeth and reached her thoughts outwards. Instantly she was connected to the frenetic activity around her. Her last two destroyers in orbit, fending themselves from the dogs of the Panizhe fleet; the Panizhe troops on the ground, flooding the first gates of the city; the fighting within the Palace itself. She was appalled. Spies, traitors, deceit, right under her nose! She had not been keeping close enough eye on them. The prognosis did not look good.

Then she saw something that made her smile. The Emissary was in trouble; Voyager was on the surface, fighting in place of the Delta Flyer. She felt the man on the bridge, trying to heal his mate. She saw the embankments on the city walls that the small ship had missed; Voyager was targeting them but not fast enough. She saw the way.

With a feral smile she reached her thoughts out towards the starship.

******

He was very near to success. She was already halfway over the edge, and he was on safe ground. Just one more tug and she would be safe, with them. He was exhausted, but that was inconsequential. He had healed her, somehow, through the sheer power of his love. It felt good.

And then Myriam was by his side, helping him, encouraging him, pulling her up together with him. You should not be here! Focus your efforts on leading the battle!

No! You don't understand how important she is to us. Myriam was stubborn. We cannot afford to lose her. Now, pull with me!

Chakotay heaved with all his might; and then she was tumbling on top of them—

And in that instant something terrible happened. A gruesome force came between them, tearing them apart. Her hands slipped from his, and he was dimly aware of her crying out as she fell backwards. Kathryn!

The world exploded with sudden force; a blindingly bright light filled his head.

And abruptly he was back in the corporeal bridge of Voyager, his head pounding painfully. She was not there with him. He reached out, screaming her name. There was no reply—she was not there.

She was gone.

Dione's face looked pale, ashen. "There's something wrong," she said. "The battle—it's gone. I can't connect to anything—"

"Neither can I," said Kes from the helm.

"We've lost something," said Chakotay softly, as Voyager was struck hard by a volley from the city.

She was over the edge. It was a relief. For a moment she had thought she was going to die, but now Chakotay was here and he was helping her. There still was hope after all. She thought of the battle, and how she was going to cut the Empress down when she saw her—

Then something wrenched her backwards. She cried out as her hand slipped from Chakotay's and she fell towards the edge—

Desperately she threw her hand out and snagged the edge. It didn't crumble, but she knew she would not be able to hold on for long. Chakotay!

There was no reply; yet a strong hand seized her wrist, and together they pulled her over the edge. But it was Myriam, not Chakotay. Where's Chakotay?

Myriam looked perturbed. "I do not know. I cannot feel Voyager's presence; I think something may have happened to them." At Janeway's worried expression, she added, "I do not know. There are many things happening in this battle that we did not expect. It is standing on the edge of a knife. You must go into the city; help Janae. Things are not going well there."

Janeway nodded. Time enough later for grief; now was time for action.

"Take care," said Myriam. "I cannot be with you where you go, and now I must settle other affairs. Small affairs. You have a destiny to fufil…"

The world was returning around her; she was lying on the ground, looking up at the darkened skies, lit only by the fires burning around her. Myriam's voice was fading.

You must know that you are not the Emissary, but…

What?

Janeway sat up on the battlefield. Myriam was gone, her presence in the distance. She couldn't hear Chakotay, she couldn't hear the voices of her crew. Her hand went to her chest; the wound was gone. Myriam?

There was no response. What had she been saying? Had they been wrong all along?

Overhead, a terrible dark shadow screamed. She looked up; it was Voyager. The ship was burning too, perhaps careening to the ground like the Delta Flyer once had. Was the crew dead, injured, or incapacitated? She had no way to know. The ship flew out of visual range, perhaps to a fiery death.

Now it didn't matter. If anything had happened to Chakotay, the Empress would pay.

 Her pike lay on the ground beside her. She seized it with a hand crusted in dried blood, and raised it to the sky. She let loose a terrible battle cry, rose to her feet and plunged forward towards Licknok Moor.