Chapter 9
Days pass and nothing happens. No Starfleet rescue, no word, nothing. Then again, what did I expect? It takes a few days just for my message to reach the station. To avoid detection, I send it on a slow carrier wave. It probably hasn't even reached Starfleet yet. And then, even if they sent out ships immediately, they'll have to find us first. I send along my best approximation of our position, but we've moved on from there. I briefly consider disabling the engines, so we'll be easier to find, but what if it isn't Starfleet but the Cardassians who find us? We'll be sitting ducks. So I refrain.
Instead, I continue to assist Chakotay with repairs. After our run in with the Cardassians, there are quite a few systems down, including a few we just fixed. So we go back to work.
How many days have I been here now? I didn't really keep count at first and now I've lost track. A week? Less? More? I'm not sure. Still, it must have been at least five days and the Captain still hasn't shown any sign of improvement. Shouldn't he? Shouldn't he be recovering in some way, even with their old technology and limited resources? Shouldn't he respond to something?
I'm getting restless. I know Chakotay has noticed, he's been shooting me glances all morning. I'm so distracted that I drop the coil spanner. The tool rolls away and drops down the hatch we came through on our way up. I swear loudly, and feel Chakotay's gaze on me. I start to turn around in the small crawlspace, but his hand on my arm stops me.
'Is everything alright, Katie?' He asks. The diminutive of my name – which is all he knows – makes my stomach drop. I feel ten years old again and guilty for lying to him at the same time.
'I'm fine,' I respond while trying to squish past him, but he doesn't let go.
'You can tell me, Katie. I'm your friend.' His words make me feel even worse, but once again it's his voice that sways me. It's warm and frank. He might be a Maquis, but from the moment we met, he's done nothing but help and support me. I suppose, as far as confidences go, this is one I can give him. I think he realises I've stopped resisting, because he drops his grip on my arm and takes my hand instead. 'Let me help, Katie.' He sounds so earnest that I can't help but look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are focussed solely on me and just as warm and honest as his voice. I try to give him a smile but fail and he tugs gently on my hand, turning me back to face him.
'I'm worried about my f-father.' Even with practice, the deception hasn't gotten easier. I still find myself tripping over the right terminology. 'Shouldn't we see some sort of improvement by now? What if he doesn't wake up? What if he…' If he dies, I'll be all alone here.
Chakotay sighs and my wandering gaze shifts back to his face. 'Our medics are doing everything they can, Katie, I swear.' Instead of reassuring me, his words make me even more aware of what he's not saying. He seems to realise it too, because he continues. 'I probably shouldn't tell you this, but we're close to a colony that's friendly to us. They have more medical facilities there, I'm sure they can help your father.'
'When?' I hardly breath out, too afraid to hope.
'Less than a day away. We'll probably touch down tomorrow morning.' I sag against him in relief as the weight of my worries is lifted. He lets go of my hand and for a moment I worry I've made a wrong move, but then his arms come up to hold me to him. I let myself relax against him. Then I freeze, horrified. What am I doing? Despite all his kindness, he is still an enemy of the Federation, an enemy of Starfleet. And I'm no longer acting. But one of his hands is stroking my hair and the other is strong around my shoulders and I can't remember the last time I've felt safe like this. So I forgive myself in advance and give into the urge to lean into him and take the comfort he provides after days of living on edge. To my own surprise and dismay, I start crying. Not a tear or two that I can hide against his shoulder, but full-on, uncontrollable sobs. His arms tighten around me.
I don't know how long we sit like that. He just lets me cry on his shoulder, without any meaningless platitudes. It isn't until my cries have quieted to a few stray sobs that he speaks. 'You're not alone, Katie,' he whispers right by my ear, and a shiver goes through me. He sounds so heartfelt as he almost echoes my earlier thoughts. It brings me back to myself and I pull away from him. Drying the tear tracks down my face gives me an excuse not to look at him. When I feel like I've got myself under control, I murmur 'thanks' and try to give him a grateful smile. He seems to respect my embarrassment, not realising that it's not for the reason he thinks. This time when I go to get the 'spanner, he doesn't stop me. We go back to working together amiably and this time he seems unaware of the distracting thoughts running through my head, which is just as well. He doesn't mention the colony or any part of our conversation again, though when he leaves me at Mora's quarters that night, he gives me another warm smile. I think he's giving me another chance to gain comfort from him. If I give him any indication that I want to, he'll hug me again, I'm sure. But I can't, even though I want to. Every move I make feels like a betrayal of either Starfleet or Chakotay. Hugging him, when I'm strong enough to avoid it, feels like both. I can forgive myself for a moment of weakness, but if I give in now it's a conscious choice. So I stay perfectly still and after a moment he turns around and leaves. Once I enter Mora's quarters and the door closes firmly behind me, I let out a deep breath, relieved and disappointed.