Chapter 7 - Exeunt
"Closing up shop and locking doors
Turning up lost in some unknown...
Silence so mighty you go deaf;
Bombs are going off inside your chest...
Darkness swallows a dying star.
Makes no difference what you're running from.
The voices follow you into the dark
Singing where does time go from here?
It feels like the end."
- Mikky Ekko
=/\=
She stared down at the overbearing orb, splattered with hues of green and brown and blue and white. Tirelessly hovering in a void of darkness with glittering stars, incessantly spinning.
It called to her. Summoned her toward it, drawn by obligation; a force she was unable to shake. The weight of her departure gripped her chest tightly, clutched to her ankles, inevitably threatened to drag her from her familiar, tearing her from her comfort.
"Return to me," it beckoned. It laughed hysterically, grinned at her knowing she had no alternative.
In a few hours she would touch down on its crust, to grip it, squeezing, letting clumps of its shell fall from between her fingers.
But she knew the truth; it was merely a resemblance of home.
She opened her palm, freeing the forsaken badge from her tight grasp, and she looked down at the shiny metal and sighed. Lifting her head, she returned it to its position over her heart.
She took one last look at the Earth, silently cursing it for the ache emanating within her; the grief she was succumbing to.
She looked up to the bulkheads above her, offered a silent prayer, a psalm of gratitude, and she turned abandoning her last look of the planet.
She moved across the floor, to bend over her desk, and looked into the small mirror she had positioned on a stand. Adorned in her formal dress uniform, her hair was perfectly in place, makeup expertly applied, and she removed a cap to apply a deep shade of red to her lips.
Suddenly, the door to her Ready Room opened and there was a burst of air as Chakotay entered. A wave of his cologne hit her senses and she relaxed; was reminded of her happiness, and a feeling of home washed over her.
"Oh good!" she exclaimed, looking up to greet him. With her free hand she tossed him the badge he had offered her hours prior. "Put this on."
Without hesitation, he affixed it to his formal jacket and padded softly to stand at the front of her desk.
She replaced the cap to her lipstick and checked herself in the mirror, tucking an errant piece of hair behind her ear. She moved her hands across the front of her jacket smoothing it. She examined her reflection with care, and her eyes reached her shoulder as she ran her fingers over her pips. One, two, three.
"Right," she said aloud and hastily opened a desk drawer, bending low to peer within it.
"Looking for something?" he questioned.
She raised her eyes. Held within his fingers was her missing pip. "Excellent!" she exclaimed reaching across the desk for it, but he toyed, moving the pip from her grasp. "Chakotay…" she warned, but her tone had little effect, and he smiled clutching the pip tight to his chest.
She moved around the desk, and gave him a smirk. His vacant hand reached forward, and his fingertips toyed with the edge of her coat. Her head tilted back, her voice lowered, "May I please have my pip?"
"What do I get for it?"
"My undying respect and admiration?"
"Thought I already had that."
She smiled, sighing. "Come here," she commanded, calling him forward with her index finger. "I just touched up my lips, but I'll oblige."
"For me?"
"For you."
He lowered himself slowly to her, carefully, without touching her. He was baiting her, a careful hint of seduction begging her to draw toward him, give in to the final inches. She smiled and he returned it, and she closed her eyes and offered him a soft gasp, a moan from the depths of her throat. He mimicked her, leaning forward, captivated by her hunger, and she reached for the hand at his chest to seize the pip from his closed palm.
His mouth fell open as she pulled from him. "Oh, you're good."
"Putty in my hand." She winked and turned, and moved to her mirror to fidget, replacing her pip in line with the others, perfectly spaced.
She could feel him draw toward her and she caught his reflection in her mirror. "How do I look?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. She ran her hands down her jacket, smoothing it over her body.
His eyes followed intently and she watched his lips pull into a tight smile. The corner of his mouth turned upward. She could feel his eyes begin to undress her, and her cheeks flushed. "To be honest," he started, taking a step toward her, aligning his body with her backside. "I prefer you out of it."
She looked to their reflection again as he placed his hands along the length of her body. He reached up to pull her hair from her neck, and placed several kisses to her nape.
"Chakotay," she warned. "They will be here soon."
He wrapped an arm around her middle. "Let them wait." Before she had time to refute, he spun her around, lifting her onto her desk, and without hesitation, he searched her mouth. Her dark red lips moved against him.
There were many times during their voyage, after they had completed their morning discussions, and he was set to leave her Ready Room to begin his daily tasks, that she had wanted him to turn and storm back toward her in a torrent of passion, taking her in his arms. To clear the work on her desk in one seductive sweep. To lay her down on her back and have his way with her. To give into their magnetism, and let him completely take her over.
His hand had inched its way up her jacket. He found the zipper and began to lower it. His hands moved within the coat, hungrily grabbed at her while his lips placed kisses along her neckline.
"Chakotay…" she started as he moved down her neck. "What would they say if they found us here?"
"I don't care," he confessed. "I want more." He brought a hand to the back of her head, holding her steady as his lips moved on her skin.
She gasped, and a moan escaped her as he kissed behind her ear.
"That's the spot, isn't it?" he questioned delightfully, taking a long inhale of her skin, her freshly showered hair.
She moved her neck, guiding his lips back to the tender spot. His breath was hitting her lobe, warm and tempting, and it gripped her middle. She reached within her coat to guide his palm to cup her breast. She wore a grey tank top beneath the jacket, and his thumb played along the lines of her cleavage.
"I want you to never stop touching me."
His teeth trailed, prickling, and her skin rose to meet his lips once again. "Aren't you glad the days of having me serve under you are gone?" His thumb dipped under the fabric of her bra, and stroked her nipple playfully.
She let out a shallow breath at his touch. "I'm sure there will still be days I will require your services."
"Under you?"
"I would say so." She reached to cup his face, pulling him from his dedicated work. She ran her thumbs over his lips, removing the red smear she had placed there.
"I missed you," he confessed meeting her eyes. His hands wound their way into her coat, wrapping around her middle, drawing her close.
"It's been 45 minutes."
"Already too long without you." He groaned and his hands dropped from her body. "Besides, can you blame me?" He leaned forward and kissed her lightly.
She reached behind her and pulled a familiar silver box. She opened it, and his pips shone up at them. "Would you? For me?" Her lips turned into a pout at the request.
He closed his eyes and sighed, nodding slowly, and she began to fasten them to his shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered. She looked around the room and released a heavy breath.
"Ensign Kelly to Captain Janeway."
She inhaled deeply. "Go ahead."
"Captain, I wanted to inform you that the Admiral will be docking soon."
"Thank you, Ensign."
Janeway's cheeks flushed again. She had almost forgotten about the small crew Admiral Paris had sent to Voyager before his arrival. She suddenly felt exposed.
"You okay?" He offered a hand and she took it, and he helped her from the desk.
She reached to zipper her coat. "I will be." She turned and opened her lipstick, deepening her lips once again; removing the smudges he had lovingly gifted her.
She turned back to him, flattening her coat. She raised her arms. "Well?"
He smiled lovingly. "You're exceptional." And with that, he turned and left the room.
She padded softly to her door and turned. Radiant images of her crew flooded back into her mind.
Soulful conversations with Tuvok. Unwanted medical exams by the Doctor. Reports from the Captain's Assistant. A mission request by a former Borg drone. Enthusiastic debates with B'Elanna. Paris and Neelix covered in sauce fresh from a fight over...
She smiled. Kes. She closed her eyes.
Come on, Chakotay. I cheated death. That's worth a celebration, don't you think? Bottle of champagne? Moonlight sail on Lake George? How does that sound?
She opened her eyes. "Like something worth living for," she whispered.
She turned and the door opened for her.
Chakotay was seated in his chair, rubbing his hands down his arm rests. He leaned back and looked up as she drew near; watched her carefully as she crossed her arms.
He tinkered with a control on the panel between their chairs and turned toward her. "The Admiral is docking now," he said sorrowfully.
She looked to him, melancholy gripping tightly to the smile she offered. Her hand reached out and he accepted it gratefully, squeezing it gently.
He took his leave, letting her reside alone in the center of the bridge. When she could hear him at the door, she paced around, examining the consoles to give one final inspection of their interface. All were in fine working order; just like the day she first left Deep Space Nine.
She paused in front of her chair, and took one final slow sit, rubbed her hands over the arm rests, and crossed her legs. She knew what she had to do. She sat up straight, inhaled deeply, begging her voice not to falter.
"Computer, disable main power to the bridge. Security code: Janeway-Alpha-Gamma-22".
Main power to the bridge will now be disabled.
Lights flickered and dimmed. Consoles with brightly lit panels started to fade, and she watched as the room slowly turned to black. An eerie silence fell before her. The images of her crew seemingly still in the darkness, engrained in her mind forever. Tears brimmed in her eyes.
She rose from her seat and moved across the floor to run her hands over the center console. She leaned down to whisper, "Thank you." Letting the tears fall down her cheek, she kissed a finger and placed it to the console. She turned toward the turbolift, and with heavy limbs made her way from the bridge one last time.
As she climbed the stairs, Chakotay smiled reassuringly. "Captain," he said as he motioned for her to take the lead into the lift. As they turned, the remaining lights dimmed, leaving the bridge in complete darkness. The doors to the lift closed.
=/\=
They walked in silence to the docking bay.
Hands clasped together behind his back, shoulders square, he kept a steady pace just behind her. Chakotay seemed afraid to look at her, unwilling to touch her.
They came to stand outside the double door and she paused, "Here goes," she whispered with shaky breath and reached for his hand.
He gave it a light squeeze. "I'm right beside you, Captain".
She lifted her head and with a deep breath the doors opened and she walked through.
The back door to the Starfleet shuttlecraft was lowering as the doors closed behind them, and from the shadows of the craft, emerged three figures.
First, came the familiar distinguished, broad shouldered figure of Admiral Owen Paris. He smiled smugly as he saw Janeway. To his left, an unknown ensign, PADD in hand, pack flung over his shoulder. Slightly behind him, came a figure Janeway was well familiar with now.
Lieutenant Reginald Barclay emerged from the shuttle and raised his eyes to the high ceilings of the shuttlebay. He blinked curiously and pushed his way past the ensign who paid no mind to Chakotay or the Captain, sights focused on his work in hand.
"Admiral Paris," the Captain began. "Welcome aboard Voyager."
"Captain Janeway," he smiled reaching out for her hand. "More importantly, welcome home, Kathryn." He shook her hand and turned to Chakotay, turning his nose slightly at the ex-Maquis.
Janeway cleared her throat. "Admiral, my First Officer, Commander Chakotay."
The two men eyed each other and the air began to become tense. The Admiral reached out his hand and shook Chakotay's. "Thank you, Commander," he said smiling. "Starfleet Command is grateful for everything your crew has done for this ship."
"Voyager is a fine vessel, Admiral," Chakotay added. "Led by an exceptional Captain. It has been an honor to serve under her."
Janeway lowered her eyes, and begged her cheeks to keep from blushing.
Barclay danced beside them, unable to contain his excitement. "Captain Janeway," he said reaching out enthusiastically for her hand. "May I say wh-wh-what an honor it is to finally meet you face-to-face."
Janeway shook his hand gratefully. "Lieutenant Barclay, welcome aboard Voyager." She smiled warmly. "I must say you were like a member of my crew. " Barclay continued his dance. "If it wasn't for all your hard work on the Pathfinder Project, we'd still be lost out there."
"Oh, I-I-I I'd never give up on Voyager. No, not for a second." He took her hands in his own and held them tightly. "But please, Captain, call me Reg. All my friends do."
Janeway pulled her hands from his and reached up to cup his face. "Thank you, Reg. We are all eternally grateful to you." She pulled him in and gave him a hug. Barclay closed his eyes.
The Admiral cleared his throat. "Captain, you may remember the pilot I have assigned to bring you home."
Janeway pulled away from her hug and turned her gaze toward the figure emerging from the shuttlecraft. Her heart skipped, her face tightened as she held back tears. "Tom!" she exclaimed as she quickened toward him.
"Captain," he said lovingly as he pulled her in for a hug. "Are you ready to go home?"
She ignored the question and pulled back looking at his collar. "Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris," She remarked with glee as Chakotay came up behind them. She pressed her palms flat over her shoulders.
"Congratulations, Tom," Chakotay said with a smile, as he shook his hand.
"I would have wanted to do the honors," she remarked sadly. "So well deserved, Tom. Congratulations!" Her hands moved to his face and like a proud mother, she looked upon him, tears in her eyes. How much he has grown. From the scrawny, hot headed ex-con, to new father, to Lieutenant Commander. She pulled him in again. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered. He placed his head on her shoulder and squeezed her tighter.
They held the moment until the Admiral finally cleared his throat again. "Well, Captain. Shall we?"
Janeway pulled back and straightened her jacket. "Yes."
Chakotay placed his hands by his side. "Attention to Orders!" he boomed. His voice echoed off the walls of the bay.
The crew the Admiral brought returned to the group and they also stood at attention. The Admiral reached out and Lieutenant Barclay placed a PADD in his hand. It carried the official insignia of Starfleet Command on the back.
The Admiral cleared his throat. "Captain Kathryn Janeway, Commanding Officer, USS Voyager, Stardate 55057.9. You are hereby requested and required to relinquish command of your vessel to Admiral Owen Paris, Admiral, Starfleet Command as of this date."
Janeway let a tear fall down her cheek. "Computer, transfer all command codes to Admiral Owen Paris. Voice authorization: Janeway-Delta-Nine."
The computer chimed. Transfer complete. USS Voyager now under the command of Admiral Owen Paris.
The Admiral reached out for Janeway's hand. "I relieve you, Sir."
Janeway cleared her throat and shook his hand. "I stand relieved."
She turned and met Chakotay's gaze. He nodded slowly and motioned for Janeway to lead the way onto the shuttlecraft.
=/\=
A low shudder echoes along the ceiling of the shuttlebay as Voyager releases a held breath, dumping the air from her Jefferies tubes, just as Tom engages the thrusters, lifting the shuttlecraft slowly from the dock's floor, removing her Captain from her forever.
Coming Soon: Chapter 8 - "Hold On" - Sarah McLachlan