Chapter 10
Just as Chakotay promised, when I wake up the next morning there's a buzz in the air. The frantic excitement of reaching a destination looks very different on a Maquis ship than it does on a Starfleet vessel, but there's the same press to get everything ready in time. On a Starfleet vessel, that usually means getting the ship in near perfect condition. In this case, it means making sure the landing gear is operational and the ship is strong enough to survive entry into the atmosphere. Apparently this ship doesn't have any shuttles – I'm guessing they have neither the material nor the space for that – and the transporters are unreliable. I help Chakotay fix odds and ends all morning. When the time comes, Chakotay asks me to go to sickbay and stay there until we've set down. I'm about to argue, to make up some reason why I have to be near a viewport – does this ship even have them? – when we land, but he looks at me so earnestly. Mora's words from days before go through my head. He must have lost people, but he cares about me. I know he's just trying to look after me. I know myself well enough that if there had been even a hint of command or pressure in Chakotay's words or gaze I wouldn't have gone. But I do. What use would it have been, anyway, to see a planet I have in all likelihood never seen before? So I go to sickbay and wait patiently at the captain's bedside.
The landing is rough, even from our relatively sheltered location, but considering the ship's state it's better than I expected. True to his word Chakotay shows up soon after. Now that we're on the ground, sickbay is a study in rampant chaos. Medical personnel and other crew begin to evacuate patients. Chakotay picks up the front end of the stretcher the Captain has been settled on and tells me to follow him. I jump up to pitch in. We struggle a bit to find our rhythm, especially through the corridors of the ship. Our difference in size doesn't make it easier to coordinate. It doesn't let up once we step outside. For one thing it's dark here, even though it was well into the morning in ship's time. We've landed in the middle of a forest. Or, considering the heat that hits me as soon as I set foot outside, a jungle. Thankfully there is a semi-lit path through the vegetation large enough for us to navigate without problems. We walk for only a few minutes before I see the increase in light that heralds the beginnings of a town. As the trees make way for buildings, Chakotay calmly leads on. He clearly knows his way around, as he easily zig zags through the town. It doesn't seem very big, probably has no more than a few thousand inhabitants. The houses are white and square, like you'd see in the less temperate zones on Earth, a couple of centuries ago. Most are only one or two stories high.
I'm so busy looking around that I don't notice Chakotay has stopped until the stretcher hits me in the ribs. Chakotay knocks on the door of one of the white buildings and soon after a small woman opens the door. She seems to be human, with dark hair and tan skin. Chakotay greets her as Kimmy. She welcomes us both in and directs us to a room in the back of the house. It takes a bit of manoeuvring to get the Captain from the stretcher and onto the bed there, but we manage. Chakotay notices how I glance at the door hopefully and chuckles softly.
'It's the middle of the night here, Katie. I'm sure they'll be here first thing to help your father, but get some sleep first.' He glances significantly at the bed in the other corner before giving me a wide smile and walking out. Kimmy gives me a kind smile and follows him. I sigh and tumble down on the bed with no choice but to take his advice.
Despite our arrival in the middle of the night, I'm up at first light the next morning. I try to sneak out and find somewhere to wash without waking Kimmy, but I needn't have bothered because she is already in the kitchen. I try to ask her when the doctor will get here, but she just gives me the same kind smile as before, hands me a cup of something warm and waives me to a chair at the kitchen table. The sweet whiff of coffee convinces me, so I sit down in one of the handmade chairs, take a deep breath of the wonderful aroma and a large sip of the wonderful brew. Then I ask again. She just gives me the same kind smile and continues rummaging around the kitchen, pulling out a skillet from one of the cupboards and ignoring my questions. It takes me longer than I'd care to admit to realise that Kimmy doesn't understand a word I say. I soundly curse myself and the Cardassians for taking away my universal translator and then start trying to get my meaning across through signs and pointing. I'm unsuccessful. Even getting the word 'doctor' across seems to be beyond my capabilities. Ten minutes later I'm enjoying a lovely omelette but am still no closer to finding out when the doctor's coming. The next few hours go by very slowly. I wait for the doctor, but I'm not a patient person so I spend most of the time pacing up and down the small back room with the Captain's cot. A few times my impatience wins from my need to be there when the doctor comes and I walk out to explore my new surroundings. I never get beyond the first ten houses before my worry brings me right back.
When a knock sounds around lunchtime I'm at the door in record time. I open the door just as Kimmy appears from the kitchen. My spirits lift at the sight of Mora, but she's not carrying any equipment and she's on her own.
'I'm sorry, Katie,' she says, 'but it'll be a while yet. The doctor is working on the most urgent cases first.'
I manage to keep a very uncharitable thought in, but my facial expression probably speaks volumes. Mora clearly notices my disquiet, because she continues.
'I know it's difficult to hear that, but I assure you that your father is one of our priorities. But for the moment he's comfortable and stable, some of our other patients aren't. I promise you, we'll be here tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.'
Her words don't really satisfy me, but I remember a patient on the ship who had to be sedated because he was constantly in terrible pain so I don't push. During lunch, for which Mora sticks around, I try to participate in the conversation because Mora apparently can't converse with Kimmy either, but as much as I like her it's still somewhat of a relief when she leaves.
Now that I know the doctor won't be here before the end of the day, which is still a couple of hours away, I decide to go out and explore for a while. I start in the town, but the monotony of it quickly gets on my nerves. It's probably my lack of interest because my mind is somewhere else, but all the houses look the same. Even the people blur together. I probably can't communicate with them anyway, not without my comm. badge. My parents are right; I'm a true child of the 24th century. I can't do anything without a computer. How long could I survive in a place like this on my own? Brilliant Kathryn Janeway, desperate to explore the universe. I wouldn't even be able to feed myself! Out here, all my training, all those years of hard work; what is it worth?
Before I know it, I've left the settlement behind me and I'm surrounded by foliage. For a moment I freeze, overcome by my own stupidity. How could I just walk into the wilderness like this? Without a path, or a tricorder to find my way back? I'm fortunate that I'm still close enough to the town to hear its activity, otherwise a few moments of inattention could have gotten me lost. But now I'm trapped. I can't go deeper into the jungle without running the risk that I won't find my way back, yet I don't want to turn back. It's almost funny. Here I am, trapped physically as well as mentally. Caught between jungle and civilization, Starfleet and Maquis.
With no alternative, I decide to make the best of this place. At least I'm alone, so I don't have to keep up an act. And it's lovely, in a way. There's a large rock a couple of feet away and after I carefully look around it for dangerous flora or fauna, I make myself comfortable.
What is my family doing now, I wonder. Mom, dad, Phoebe. Are they worried about me? The last time I spoke to them Phoebe was still in art classes. Was it only two weeks ago? This isn't the longest I've been away from them and it's probably not even the furthest, yet this feels different. I've never felt so far away from them. Before, no matter where I was, I could comm them. Or if we were out of comm. range, I could send a message. Now I have no way to do either, not without risk of discovery.
My mom's birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I hadn't even planned on being there, even though I do have leave coming up. But no, I was only on my first assignment, I couldn't possibly travel back to Earth now, not for something as trivial as my mom's birthday. Always putting my career first, just like daddy. Do I really want to be like him? Is science more important than spending time with my family? Is discovering some unknown particle or seeing a natural phenomenon no human has seen before really worth everything? Out here, with the Maquis, I'm cut off from both my career and my family, but it's not the work I miss. I guess I expected them to be there, to contact when I want to and come home to when I feel like it. They're a constant that I've taken for granted.
Suddenly I don't know why I'm sitting here. I'm going to find Chakotay and I'm going to do whatever I can to get back home. He's probably working on the ship, as we've done every other day. I'll help him until it's time for the doctor to drop by and heal the Captain. And then, when the Captain is conscious again, we'll figure out a way to get back to Earth.
With renewed vigour, I get up and march back to the settlement.