AN: Please review. My fragile ego needs it. Thanks so much to all who did. (Belladevon:Loved your story…what a sweet moment between the two of them!! Thanks for letting me know about it!)
The Adjustment
Tom Paris sat in the mess hall, his hands folded under his chin, supporting his weight on his elbows, staring unseeingly at the stationary stars outside the viewport.
"Want some company?" came the voice of his wife. He looked up at her, as she slid into the booth next to him, and smiled a wobbly smile.
"Hey, 'Lanna," he managed, brushing a kiss on her cheek. She looked at him discerningly. His eyes looked red.
"You okay?" He turned back to the viewport.
"Yeah… I – I don't – I," he took a deep breath. "I can't believe they're gone. Captain Janeway. H – Harry." He swallowed. B'Elanna put a hand on his arm, and rested her head against his shoulder. "I keep thinking of little stupid things… like Harry's clarinet, and Captain Proton… and –" His voice trailed off.
"I keep thinking about Chakotay," B'Elanna said, in a voice much softer than her usual strident tone. "He was half in love with her, you know."
Tom laughed a little mirthless laugh. "More than half, if you ask me."
"You think he's okay?"
"Like I am?" Tom snorted. "What is that saying… 'still waters run deep'? He's upset. But I bet he takes that mantle she left him, and follows her example." He began to drift again. "She was like that… everyone wanted to follow her example."
B'Elanna's eyes misted for a moment, and then her Klingon heritage took over. "Damn p'takh son of a bitch mugger!" She snarled, hitting the tabletop with her fist, swearing inelegantly.
"Can you believe it?" Tom said, like he was having trouble digesting the information. "All we've been through… all she's brought us through… and she's killed by a street thug?"
B'Elanna couldn't restrain a smile then. "But what a way for Harry to go. Saving the captain!" Tom grinned at her, savoring the irreverence of the moment.
"He was probably angling for that promotion!"
A laugh burbled involuntarily from B'Elanna, and she covered her mouth. It ended in a kind of sob.
"Oh, Kahless, Tom," she said.
"I know, 'Lanna. I'm gonna miss them so much."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You fool!" Yegran spat. "I told you to keep your mouth shut. You were to merely stand there… and look guilty." The last phrase was spoken with the utmost derision.
"My apologies, Chancellor," Jorann said, anxiously. "I only thought to make it look convincing." He paused a moment, then added, "When do I get my money?"
"You'll have your payment when we know your story worked."
"And when will that be?" Jorann said, with an edge of anger to his tone. Yegran gave him a warning look, ominous in its blandness. Jorann gulped, and modified his expression.
"You will have your payment in full once Voyager has broken orbit, and not an instant before. Remember you did assault and rob the Captain of that vessel… you are certainly getting more than you deserve."
"Chancellor," Jorann's voice was full of righteous dismay, "the service I rendered in deceiving the Starfleet ship was only to aid the best interests of Gentarra."
The Chancellor's sideways look effectively voiced his doubt of the truthfulness of Jorann's declaration.
"I only wished to preserve the secrecy and sanctity of the portal, that the –" He stumbled to a halt, as Yegran's face grew menacing.
"Your tongue has run away without the benefit of your sense," he sneered. "Now, get out! Before we change our minds about throwing you in prison. And giving you your reward."
Jorann turned on his heels, and all but fled from the ruling chamber.
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The council meeting seemed quite forbidding to Harry Kim… but it probably wasn't any worse than any other less-than-optimal situations they had been in. True, the décor left much to be desired, with a long, heavy-beamed, low-ceiling hallway lit only by flickering, low-wattage lights (solar-powered cells, Prastin explained).
Perhaps it was the row of somber-looking Gentarrans lined up at a long handcrafted table, staring at the newcomers that made Harry feel ill at ease. There was a long period of silence, spent trying not to meet the inscrutable gazes of the Gentarrans, where even Prastin was shifting his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortably.
"How do off-worlders come to be on Gentarra?" A man whose dark hair had begun to turn iron-grey spoke from the center seat on the table. Kathryn noticed that his chair was higher than everyone else's, or was on a dais.
Prastin stepped forward, his arms draped behind his back, in a stance of nonchalance that belied his actual emotions.
"They came through the portal from Gentarra Prime… inadvertently, Councilor Manlak." There were a few hushed whispers from the men at the end of the council table. Manlak's frown deepened.
"That is a serious breach of security. Were you attempting to steal the portal's technology?" He directed the question at Harry, who glanced questioningly at the Captain. She exchanged a look with Prastin, who nodded, and signaled Harry to answer the question.
"We were fleeing a criminal who had attacked Ca – Kathryn," he indicated her with one hand, "with a knife, in an attempted robbery. I came to assist her, and we saw an open door. We entered, with only the idea to escape the attacker. We had no idea where it led."
"The door was left open… and unattended?" Manlak's voice was incredulous. "That is highly irregular."
"And it is very convenient, Councilor," a young, very beautiful woman, with haughty eyes spoke, casting looks of disdain on the two humans. "They must know that we have no way of contacting Gentarra Prime in between cycles. They could tell us anything, and we would have no way to verify it."
"They come with nothing," Prastin interjected. "They have no devices of any kind, save a communicator which is inoperable. I saw them after they arrived…they were confused and distressed. I do not believe it was an act, Councilor Rianah."
"What could off-worlders have to gain by coming here?" A third councilor said from the opposite end. "All the controls for the portal are on Gentarra Prime. The beacon is useless unless a cycle is in progress. We have little technology, no spaceworthy vessels… they are, in fact, trapped here."
"Perhaps they're criminals," Rianah said archly. "They came through the portal as an escape from justice."
"Councilor, these people have done us no harm, and shown no intentions to do so. Must we immediately brand them criminals because they are different?" The third councilor argued back.
"It is in our best interests to err on the side of caution, rather than put our society at risk," Rianah retorted.
"Very well, Rianah, let us lay this matter to rest." He looked at Harry and Kathryn. "I am Councilor Prascor. Are you two criminals?"
"No, Councilor. We are not," Kathryn answered evenly, looking Prascor straight in the eyes. Prascor's eyes twinkled, and he nearly smiled.
"There, you see, Rianah. They aren't criminals." A few council-members chuckled, and Rianah seethed, but said nothing. From what Kathryn could tell, the enmity between Rianah and Prascor was long-standing and deep.
Manlak had remained silent during the exchange, but finally spoke again.
"Where do you come from?"
"We come from Earth, one of a federation of planets across the galaxy. Our ship, Voyager, was thrown here by accident, and we have been working our way home for six years. We stopped on Gentarra Prime for supplies. The rest happened as Ensign Kim has said," Kathryn replied.
"You are the leader of your ship, then?"
"I am Voyager's captain, yes, Councilor. Captain Kathryn Janeway. Harry Kim is one of my trusted officers."
"He must be, if he tried to save your life." Kathryn looked at Harry, and the corners of her eyes crinkled in a smile.
"Any of my crew would have done the same. And I for any of my crew." Manlak assessed her for a long moment. Rianah appeared to be attempting to glare holes in her skull.
"Are you aware that you will have to remain here until after the next cycle, when the portal is reversed for shipments to Gentarra Prime?" Harry's shoulder's seemed to slump, almost imperceptibly.
"Yes, Prastin has informed us of this." Kathryn's eyes saddened, but her features were composed. Manlak arched a brow at Prastin.
"You take liberties, Prastin."
"They were upset. I merely tried to explain the situation to them, as best I could. I saw no signs of espionage."
"What do you intend to do, Captain?"
"Whatever we can do to work and live in this society, Councilor. We do want to return when it is time, and try to find our people."
"The portal is highly classified. It is unlikely that your ship will be made aware of what has happened to you."
"We are aware of that. I wouldn't want Voyager to wait that long. It is time best spent continuing the journey home. We were hoping to continue our journey home as well… when the cycle reverses."
"You will understand our initial caution. I personally do not see any malicious intent, but Prastin will escort you until our perceptions are confirmed. Is that agreeable, Captain?" Manlak asked.
"Of course, Councilor. Thank you for your hospitality," Kathryn said graciously.
"Councilor," Prastin spoke up. "Might they stay in Harana's home, and make it their own?"
"Hyral?" Manlak asked down the table.
"Harana's husband," Prastin whispered in an aside to Harry and Kathryn.
"I see no reason why they could not stay there," Hyral said, causing Rianah's glare to increase. "There is no one in immediate need of the house."
"So let it be done then," Manlak said with an air of finality.
"Welcome to Gentarra!" shouted the irrepressible Prascor.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chakotay and Tuvok were conferring in the ready room before they made the final decision to leave Gentarra Prime. Chakotay sat on the small sofa, unable and unwilling to take Kathryn's chair.
"Do you think Yegran was telling the truth?"
"I see no reason why he would lie. He did appear to have an arrogant and suspicious nature, but he did make an investigation and an arrest."
"Hmmm…yes, and a little too easily for my taste," Chakotay mused.
"The prisoner would have little to gain by deceiving us. He has already been apprehended. Commander, you must also take into account the fact that Captain Janeway's and Ensign Kim's biosigns appear nowhere on the planet's surface."
"Couldn't they be jamming our scanners?"
"Sensors have read some curious power fluctuations on the planet, but nothing that would constitute interference. We have a clear read on the planet."
Chakotay let out a gusty sigh, and leaned his head on the back of the sofa, gazing at the ceiling. He was silent for a long moment. Tuvok waited.
"Tuvok, do you think they're gone?" Tuvok blinked, but said, as stoically as always,
"I do, Commander." Chakotay blinked as though Tuvok had hit him, and sat silently for a long moment. Tuvok watched with interest, as the emotional walls almost visibly shuttered into place over his face….absolving him from the need to think about the two lost officers…about her.
"Then give the order, Mr. Tuvok."
"Aye..Captain."
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6 Months Later…Kathryn Janeway wiped her face with the back of one dirty hand, not quite succeeding in her attempt to keep her face clean. She leaned closer to inspect her corshnai, which were the biggest and reddest in the village, and a little thread of sadness wound its way into her mind. There had been another time, another place where she grew tomatoes… She sighed.
It had been 6 months since they came through the portal and ended up in this timeline…4 months since they had given up hope completely. She spent her time keeping the garden, learning Gentarran, and helping Prastin out with the occasional computer glitch. Hers was a calm existence, where the work was labor-intensive but simple.
The villagers had accepted them into their group with relative ease, except for Rianah, who harbored some kind of unreasoning hatred that Kathryn could not fathom. Even now, there was still a handful of oldtimers who eyed Kathryn and Harry with suspicion…especially her.
The Gentarrans looked very human, except for their tiny rounded ears, and their high rounded foreheads. Their eyes were huge and dark, and their hair was dark and worn long, even by the men. The women's hair was usually plaited down their backs, and the men's pulled back and tied with a piece of leather. Needless to say, Kathryn stood out in every way. Harry actually managed to blend in, especially once he began letting his hair grow.
Harry… Kathryn let her thoughts drift to him a moment, as she aerated the soil around the base of the corshnai plants. He had proven to be a rock for her, and she for him, as they acclimated to their new life. He had a dry sense of humor, where she occasionally had to look at him closely before she figured out he was joking, and a streak of optimism a mile wide.
He had picked up the Gentarran language quickly, more so than she, and had offered his services working in the forge. He also had let slip his knowledge of operations and communications systems, and often worked odd hours repairing what little technology was present.
He had been shy and uncertain around her at first, still seeing her as the Captain. Even now, he still had moments of awkwardness. But everyday he seemed to see a little more Kathryn, and a little less Captain Janeway.
I wonder if she is gone forever, Kathryn mused. I wonder where Voyager is. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he misses me at all. I wonder if he can feel how much I miss him. I wish I had told him what he meant to me…
"Tharaku sonalo," came a voice with laughter in it. She looked up to see her former Ops officer leaning on the gate, smiling.
"My sona aren't worth half a thara," she said with chagrin, in an atrocious mix of English and Gentarran.
"You aren't ever going to learn it if you keep mixing them up like that. I said "I'll give a penny for your thoughts." And you say…" he gestured his hand at her. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Frenakalai." Harry's eyes widened.
"I see you picked up swearing without a problem." She grinned impishly, but then said seriously,
"I don't know how anybody learns to speak this damn language, unless they're taught it from birth. There are so many damn endings and they change with the least little thing. Can't you just be my translator?"
He looked at her condescendingly, which caused her to mutter another Gentarran swear word under her breath.
"So what were you thinking about, really?" He asked, by way of changing the subject.
"Voyager." Harry's eyes grew somber and reflective then.
"Yeah…" was all he said in a kind of half-sigh. He appeared to be somewhere light-years away. I wonder what Tom and B'Elanna are doing, he mused. They were trying to have a baby…I bet nobody else knew that. They were going to make me the godfather. Mom, Dad, Libby… there was always hope before. His thoughts thrashed through a familiar path, worn with use.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes from her position on the ground. His hair was long, but still too short to pull back. It had become an almost involuntary movement for him to sweep his hair back from his forehead with an open hand. Of course, it almost immediately fell back to frame his face. His upper body had become much more muscled from his work in the forge, and his tan had deepened from his time outdoors. He is beautiful, drifted across her mind…
She jerked her head down in disgust, and became intensely absorbed in her plants again…ashamed of herself. He is a child…he is fifteen years younger than I am. We're the only two humans here…it would be best if our comfortable friendship was preserved. There's nowhere to run if something got ugly or awkward. She realized that her heartbeat had increased, and her fingers, buried in the black soil of Gentarra, trembled.
"Cap – Kathryn," Harry said, looking down at her with concern. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. How are you?" She managed to say naturally. He reached up to rub a kink in between his neck and shoulders.
"I'm okay. I finished my first plow blade today. Did it all by myself, without Hyral's help." He sounded excited at first, but then laughed as he thought of the ridiculousness of his words. She gazed at him in sympathy, understanding why he laughed…she was probably the only person in the universe who could understand.
First, Starfleet, the Federation, family, friends, and all things familiar were ripped away by the Caretaker. And as they made new family and new friends, upholding the ideals of Starfleet, that too vanished… they were abandoned, isolated on an alien world adapting to an alien culture, with all they had studied for, strived for, worked for…lost. Their eyes met, thoughts in perfect sync, in tune to the emotional roller coaster, the guilt for feeling happy or content, the bitterness of life askew, the endless what-ifs that cycled through their minds with self-mockery.
She stood to her feet then, dusting her hands off on the hem of her tunic, and placed one hand on his arm.
"We're doing okay, Harry."
"I know," he finally conceded. "And I'm glad you're here. It – it helps."
She looked up at him with her crooked smile…the one she usually reserved for Chakotay, and he felt the blood rush up to his face. The sun was slanting down and turning her hair a burnished gold…it was longer now, around her shoulders, and she… he banished those thoughts. She's your commanding officer!
She laid her head on his shoulder briefly, and he leaned his cheek on the top of her head, hoping she wouldn't feel the pounding of his heart. He half-expected her to pull away, command mask in place, showing the emotional control of a Vulcan.
"Thanks, Harry. That means a lot." She remained casually in his arms, as if she embraced Ensigns under her command every day.
"Anytime, Kathryn."
They stood in silence, savoring the moment, both of them hyper-aware of each other's proximity, and equally aware that – for the first time without hesitation or tentativeness – he had said her name.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chakotay strode through the corridor after a long, dull Alpha shift. He was tired, and he felt like the farther they got from Gentarra Prime, the more pieces his heart broke into. He passed the captain's quarters, and there was a catch in his even stride, not quite a stumble, but close. He still could not bring himself to take those quarters as his own. Tuvok had delicately broached the subject, and he had replied that his own quarters were fine.
It was bad enough that they had to call him Captain now, the ready room was his, the big chair was his. Kathryn, he thought, murdered by a street thug. He felt somehow to blame, as if he should have been protecting her. And Harry. Probably the two people on Voyager who wanted to get back home the most. And now they never would.
Chakotay and Tuvok had decided on a somewhat rambling course away from Gentarra Prime… at about Warp Two, stopping at all the well-known spaceports and trade centers. Without really saying so to each other, they were both still gleaning what information they could about Gentarra Prime, neither exactly satisfied by the way things ended, but unable to give a logical reason.
Chakotay knew that without evidence, he could not reasonably prevent the crew from getting home. He and Tuvok had agreed to this plan until they left the sector, when they would then resume the most direct route to the Alpha Quadrant. We won't find anything, he mused, but it does make me feel like I'm at least doing something. Tuvok would probably find that illogical.
Most of all, Chakotay realized that he missed Kathryn with almost physical pain. She was his captain, his best friend, his companion, his advocate, his lover, in all but the physical aspect. He was lonely. And he also began to realize the isolation she must have felt… why she never felt able to enter into a relationship. It's lonely at the top, the cliché tripped through his mind with ironic accuracy. If only I'd understood…why she felt the way she did… if I'd have offered her what she could accept, instead of what I wanted her to accept…if only… He hit the bulkhead with his open hand, in frustration, and then swore as the pain of loss washed over him like a swamping wave.
He was drowning.
But then he shoved that thought aside as well, with characteristic Maquis single-mindedness. Kathryn was dead. She had been lost to him. The one thing he could do in her memory was get Voyager home. And he would do that. For her. And hope that somehow she would know.
TBC: Next chapter "The Absolution"Please read and review. Thanks again to those who did.