The Secret Of Angalaria
by Gine
Chapter 6 Bruised and battered
I was bruised and battered.
I couldn't tell what I felt.
I was unrecognisable to myself.
Saw my reflection in the view port, staring back at me.
It was black and the stars were whispering.
But I couldn't hear what they said.
I wanted to scream, but the words were stuck in my soul.
My voice was gone, and my heart felt like the dark had ripped it from me.
I heard the blood in my veins, it was burning.
I wanted to cry; but the tears were frozen inside me.
I prayed for rescue
My prayer a name:
CHAKOTAY.
Kathryn's hand reached for the few silver lines of light in a desperate gesture, the silent move a deep expression of longing. But it only touched the glass of the view-port. Compared to her cold hand it felt almost warm, alive. And in a special way it was. Voyager, her ship, home of her family, her heaven and sometimes her personal hell.
She heard the door open and close, but never moved away from the view port. Her eyes stared unfocused into the dark that seemed to have extended into her quarters, into her soul.
He could barely make out her small frame in the lightless room. She was just a shape in the shadows.
"Kathryn." The way Chakotay whispered her name and the warmth of his hands around her naked waist shocked her back into reality. Her skin felt ice cold and clammy. Gently he turned her around.
The time seemed to slow in the very moment their eyes met. He saw the doubt, the hurt, vulnerability and pain beyond words. The emotions in the blue depths were an open display of the ordeal she had gone through and of the deep wounds it had left. He wanted to cry.
"I'll hold you, Kathryn." He didn't need any more words.
Slowly she leaned against him, her head sagging against the place over his heart. When her legs gave out under her, his arms were there to catch her and stop her fall. Her last reserves were used up. Her body and mind could finally let go and she broke down completely in his embrace.
The Doctor was already waiting at the nearest biobed when Commander Chakotay materialised in sickbay with the unconscious captain in his arms.
He put her down gently, even now afraid of hurting her. The clear lights of sickbay finally revealed the bleeding abrasions on her swollen wrists and ankles. A large bruise had coloured her abdomen blue.
Chakotay stared in horror at his hands. They were covered with blood. Kathryn's blood. Very carefully he rolled her over. The sight of her back made him want to be sick. The swollen cuts still wept and showed the first signs of infection. The abrasiveness of the raw metal of the cross and the constant wetness of her skin had aggravated the wounds. He gasped for air, his hands balled into fists. Tears blurred his vision and finally spilled from his eyes.
A hand reached for him and guided him out of the Doctor's way. Tom led him into the washroom. He didn't say a word. His eyes full of compassion, he just patted Chakotay's shoulder then left him alone.
The hot water almost burned his skin, but his eyes were fixated on the faint red streams that soiled the sterile white of the washbasin until they were no longer visible, but they stayed in his mind.
Dark eyes in a face that had lost all colour stared back at him from the mirror. The fine lines of his tattoo looked raven-black. His hand moved shakily through his hair and finally he pressed it over his mouth to stop himself from crying out loud.
Oh God, Kathryn, what have they done to you?
He knew he had to be strong now. And he prayed that this hadn't destroyed her beyond his ability to help her heal. The shattered look in her eyes had gripped his heart like an iron fist.
When he returned from the bathroom, the Doctor was still scanning the captain. The serious expression on the hologram's face spoke volumes. His eyes never left the medical tricorder, while he ordered Tom to pass him several different hyposprays. One drug after another was administered into the still figure on the bed. The desperation in the Doctor's actions was quickly rising. Whatever he did, nothing seemed to have an effect on his precious patient. The monitor at the captain's temple flashed several times, and alarms began to ring. Her heart beat, blood pressure and respiratory rate were dropping dangerously.
The Doctor was just about to shock her back to life, when the sickbay doors flew open and Namara and Araman appeared. They approached the bed from two sides. Namara stood on the left while Araman took his place on the right.
Hands of light covered Kathryn's chest and temples then slowly spread out in all directions, until her skin was no longer snow-white, but glowing almost translucent. The two Angalarians had closed their eyes, deep concentration showing on their features.
The Doctor stood with his mouth open, but not one word came out. He stared in fascination at the transformation that was happening to his patient and the tricorder readings that indicated her starting to recovery. The captain's condition was stabilizing and the horrible sound that announced imminent heart failure finally ceased. Still deeply asleep she was breathing normally again. Only the superficial wounds stayed. The Doctor could take care of them easily enough now.
Namara and Araman were just about to remove their hands, when the Angalarian woman suddenly cried out a word, a name, unknown to the Doctor, Tom and Chakotay.
"Maran."
Her hands broke the connection with the captain abruptly and reached for her own temples. All light faded rapidly from her corporal form, her skin became ashen and the shine of her silver hair faded to grey. Her wonderful clear blue eyes coloured dark as the sea at midnight and tears streamed from them. Although Araman appeared physically unaffected, everyone in sickbay saw the pained expression in his dark eyes. Deep sadness and grief mirrored there, when his arms closed around his mate. He whispered something to her that they couldn't understand and his aura started to engulf Namara until they both seemed to sway in a circle of light.
Chakotay had never before seen something so heartbreakingly sad and still so beautiful. All this time he had stood beside the captain's biobed, a silent suffering watcher, but now while Araman melded with Namara, his hand unconsciously connected with Kathryn's. For him this touch was just as intimate as the joining of the Angalarians.
Eventually Namara regained her composure, but the light around her was still subdued. She seemed no longer to radiate it from inside. The golden rays had diffused to a cloud of white, and she looked like a fairy surrounded by early morning mists. Her ethereal aura covered her now like a cloak of silent grief.
"Your Captain has faced a terrible ordeal. There are sure signs that she has gone through a forced soul-melding process at least three times." Namara closed her eyes for a few seconds and when she opened them again, Chakotay could see the silver glance of fresh tears. "It is the greatest sacrilege an Angalarian can commit to."
Namara could see the silent question in Chakotay's eyes. What was she talking about? She looked at Araman and at his nodded permission she began to explain.
"We told you there is a legend about our people: The Secret of Angalaria. You and your crew have risked so much to save our children and protect our world. We owe you the truth. The people of Angalaria are one of the twelve guardians of life, sheltering the stream that connects everything. Behind the universe lies one truth that is driven by the eternal fight between two counteracting forces. Darkness and Light."
"Our people were chosen to channel these powers and found the perfect balance of both: Peace. We were the spring and became the river, now we are the sea. As you will be, when your time comes. You may ask, what is this miraculous power I am talking about? It is the flame of life that burns in everything. It is the greatest power; it is the seed and the fruit. It is creation, death and rebirth. Every being chooses its very own way and every experience in life creates a new facet to complete what you are, your soul. The subconscious and the conscious emotional memory core are the essence of the soul. We all carry it through many lives and while we journey through time, in ours souls we collect the powerful knowledge that defines existence. Angalaria's people live in complete harmony with the nature of the universe. There is more than the reality you can see with your eyes. Our souls are no longer separated in body or mind. We are truly one. We can touch the soul of everything. Our way is to shelter, to guide and to love. No Angalarian would use his power to hurt or to destroy. But we could. Every light creates shadows as well. We can heal the damaged soul, when we touch it with love like it is in our nature. But when the light of love is replaced by the hate of darkness, the same process can destroy a soul. I didn't lie when I said no Angalarian would willingly hurt another being. Still your Captain has been deeply violated by an Angalarian."
Namara closed her eyes and again silent tears cursed down her white cheeks.
"We know him. His name was Maran." Her voice cracked, she couldn't speak anymore, so Araman finished for her.
"He was our son."
Chakotay could clearly see the deep pain in the eyes of the other man that reflected the inner fight for composure openly now. Araman had never let go of the hands of his mate. They held each other tightly. The connection of their spirits was the only source of strength to cope with the truth of their son's fate.
Araman was searching for words. Words he had never wanted to say. After all these years they had now to face the undoubted certainty of what had become of the son they had lost in the jail of Samara Prime 23 years ago.
Haunted by the knowledge that it had not been in their power to save their only child, they had feared this moment. The final revelation of Maran's fate. In the light of the circumstances, Namara's former words that an Angalarian would rather send his child to death instead of into the hands of an enemy, took on a completely new meaning. She had been talking from experience. How horrible this must have been, Chakotay could only begin to understand when Araman spoke again.
"We told you about the accident and our losses. We suffered greatly from them, Commander. More than words could ever tell and only the deep bond between our people healed the wounds, the broken spirits. Usually we don't speak about this time. Even after all these years, our souls still hurt like it was only yesterday. We lost not only six close friends; we lost the only child that was involved. Our child. Maran was with Namara and me on this fateful day. It was his first mission in space. He was separated from us as soon as we were caught by the Samarian. We knew he would lose his natural protection in ten days out there. Still we hoped these strangers would not hurt him. Two weeks into our detention, a Samarian appeared with our son at his hand. Maran didn't know us anymore. I will never forget the dead look in his eyes. Whatever they had done to him, they had found a way to feed from his powers. He was still alive in a physical sense, but his body was only a tool of evil will now. His soul was gone, his golden light forever replaced by darkness. That was crueller than death. When the Welora came to our rescue, we couldn't locate Maran's life-signs. He was no longer on Samara Prime. We never saw him again."
Araman paused, his eyes closed and when they opened again, they were brimming with unshed tears. "Our child's soul was assimilated, but in our hearts the connection with Maran never broke completely. We lost the bond with him, but it was never severed. We couldn't feel him anymore, but we always knew he was still alive, a ghost under the living, that would seek eternally for something he couldn't even remember anymore. Starving from an unquenchable hunger he would use his powers to fill his needs to stay alive. There was only one way for him to do that; he would have to meld with other souls to steal their powers. We will never know how many fell victim to him. We only know the Captain was his last. While we bonded with her for the healing ceremony, our spirits connected anew with Maran's. After all these years, we saw and felt him again. A grown man, soulless and hollow. But the darkness around him was slowly fading and the shadow was transforming to a diffuse light. We saw again the child we had lost. He was smiling at us, before his form returned to the light where it had come from. We know now Maran is dead. He has finally found his peace."
Araman hugged Namara tightly again, seeking her eyes with open concern. She nodded, silently telling him she would be okay for now and finally turned out of his embrace. She came to stand beside Chakotay and took the joined hands of Voyager's command team in hers.
"We could heal the wounds Kathryn suffered from Maran. But he was not the only one who melded with her. Someone else has tried to access her emotional memory core, and in the process he caused an even deeper hurt. The violation was almost complete and left her soul almost defenceless."
Chakotay could feel the heat radiating from Namara's hands and his own, but Kathryn's was still much too cold.
Namara looked him deeply in the eye, when she spoke again. "Old souls never face an easy life, Chakotay. You know that, don't you?"
At first the flood of memories caught him by surprise. Images from his past raced through Chakotay's mind. The death of his family, the Cardassian prisons, the war. So many painful moments, but the inner peace he had found in the last years sheltered him from the destroying powers that these memories had once had over him.
"Only the strong are chosen to face the darkness, because it is the way to the light. But even the strong are vulnerable. And when they get hurt, they suffer in an even deeper sense." Namara's eyes wandered from Chakotay's to Kathryn's. "She is one of the strongest I have ever met. For a long time she has suffered silently and without complaint for the greater good. But endurance has limits and Kathryn came much too close to hers. Others would have been broken long before, but she knows the light Chakotay, and that kept her fighting until she was forced to believe it would be lost to her forever. Only with you will she find it again. You both share the bond, and although you never acknowledged it openly, you both thrive on the power that comes from your love. She will need it more than ever now or she will never heal completely from this ordeal." With these words and a final knowing glance at Chakotay, Namara let go of their hands, turned and left sickbay with Araman.
Chakotay couldn't let go of Kathryn's hand. He didn't know why, but he needed to feel her close. The lights were dimmed and sickbay was deserted now. The Doctor had finished his work hours ago. All physical wounds were healed and there were no more cuts and bruises visible. Her body was restored to function normally again.
The dermal regenerator had repaired the last of her injuries, but the shadows under her eyes stayed. When he looked into her sleeping face, seeing the fine lines around her eyes and lips that stress and too much pain had left, all he could think about was: Could Kathryn live with what had happened to her? Or would she retreat to merely function as the captain?
She was his best friend. He had loved her for years and sometimes he knew her better than she knew herself. Kathryn Janeway never discussed her private life.
Namara was right. She was strong. But her strength of character had its roots in great vulnerability and sensibility. If Kathryn cracked under the pressure of her experiences, she would fall deeply.
Chakotay never doubted her ability to stand up again, but he had seen her at the abyss before. Was she capable of jumping? He was afraid of having to find out the answer to that question.
"Commander?" The Doctors voice startled him. He had been completely oblivious to his surroundings with all his senses concentrated on the woman who rested on the biobed beside him. "The captain won't be awake for another 12 hours. I have to keep her sedated. Her life threatening injuries are taken care of, but her body will need time to recover. I have finished my medical report for you."
Reluctantly Chakotay placed Kathryn's hand back on her chest, removing his own very slowly and tenderly. He had to take care of Voyager and its crew as long as the captain was incapacitated. She would expect nothing less of him. So he took the padd from the Doctor and left sickbay with the order to be informed about any change in the captain's condition. He would be back, as soon as she showed any signs of regaining consciousness.