DISCLAIMER: See Teaser.
ACT 2
Voyager remained at stationkeeping as the Bridge crew scrambled to deal with the crisis the alien probe had created. Tuvok and Kim remained at their stations, monitoring the device. Baytart had taken the helm when Tom Paris had grabbed the emergency medkit stowed under his console and rushed over to where Janeway lay unconscious on the deck. Chakotay knelt in close attendance, with Torres standing beside him. She had removed her uniform jacket, folded it, and placed it under the Captain's head, while Paris used the tricorder from the emergency medkit to take preliminary readings. He looked up with an expression of relief when the EMH materialized on the bridge via recently installed holoemitters. The turbolift doors opened and Kes rushed out, carrying emergency equipment.
"The nucleonic beam is no longer scanning, Commander," said Kim. "There is a narrow reciprocating band focused directly on the Captain."
Chakotay glanced up and said, "Torres, start scanning the probe for any identifying marks, anything that might tell us where it came from."
"Understood," she answered, as she quickly crossed the deck to her Engineering station and began inputting commands.
Meanwhile, the EMH had verified Paris' preliminary data and done further scans. "Pulse and blood pressure normal," he reported. He frowned at the data on his medical tricorder. "I'm getting hyperactive fibrogenic activity. This is odd…"
"What is it?" asked Chakotay.
"There's no evidence of injury or trauma," said the Doctor, continuing to scan Janeway. "Vital signs are normal, but neurotransmitter production is off the scale. What's going on?"
Chakotay gestured in frustration toward the object on the viewscreen and said, "That probe is doing something to her. Anything yet, Kim?"
"No, sir. The particle emission is very unusual. I'm unable to block it."
"We should destroy the probe," said Tuvok. "Phasers are armed and ready."
The Doctor looked up from his scan and said, "I don't think that's wise. Not until we know exactly what it's doing to her."
"Agreed," said Chakotay. "Stand down phasers, Mr. Tuvok." The Tactical Officer reluctantly obeyed the order. "In the meantime," Chakotay continued, "take us out of range, Baytart. Thrusters only. One hundred kph, nice and easy."
"Aye, sir."
Voyager slowly moved away from the probe. Chakotay gave the maneuver a few moments and then asked, "Mr. Kim?"
"The probe is moving with us, sir – holding relative position."
The EMH looked up from his readings and said, "It's connected itself to her, like a tether."
Chakotay glanced from the viewscreen to Janeway, and then back again. He looked perplexed as he considered his next possible move from several options.
*****
Ressik, 1377 by Earth's calendar
Five years later, Janeway sat in the courtyard of her home, holding a sextant which she was using to shoot the sun. She took a measurement and recorded her findings in a journal lying on a table in front of her. She held the instrument up to her eye again, continuing her study. Alain came from the house and approached his wife, who was completely absorbed in her work. He watched her silently for a moment, aware of her intense preoccupation, before he moved toward her and leaned on the back of her chair.
"You've been dreaming of that starship of yours again, haven't you?" he asked. She lowered the instrument and turned toward him. They'd had this conversation many times before.
"I'm just charting the progress of the sun's movements," she replied. She turned away to write again and said, "Might give a clue to the cause of this drought."
Alain reached over to lightly stroke her back and then circled to one side, looking up at the sky as he spoke. "I think you're still trying to figure out where you are… where that ship of yours is… what you can do to get back to that life." He came over and sat down next to her.
Janeway sighed and set the sextant down. "The memory's five years old now, but it's still inside me." She shrugged and said, "My other existence may be gone, but I still wonder about it."
Alain regarded her solemnly, and then stood to idly circle the courtyard, occasionally breaking off a dead flower or branch now and then as he walked. The garden had deteriorated over the intervening five years. Where once there had been abundant flowering vegetation, small sickly plants without blossoms now grew.
"Was your life there so much better than this?"
She gave him a sharp look. Undaunted, he persisted.
"So much more gratifying, so much more fulfilling, that you cling to it with such stubbornness?" he persisted.
"Alain…" She turned to him.
"It must have been extraordinary," he said, "but never once in all the stories you've told me have you mentioned anyone who loved you as I do."
Janeway turned away, her face pained. He was right – she had never spoken to him about Chakotay. Although Janeway had locked away her memories of Chakotay's 'angry warrior' legend once they were back aboard Voyager, she knew full well how intense his feelings for her were. To Alain, Janeway simply said, "It was real. It was as real as this is, and you can't expect me to forget a lifetime spent there."
"Yes, I can," he insisted.
She looked over at him in surprise. There was a new sound of determination in his voice.
"I've been patient, Kamina," he said. "For five years I have shared you with that other life. I've listened, I've tried to understand, and I have waited." He came over and sat down beside her again. "When do I get you back?"
Janeway remained silent, fully understanding his frustration. "I know this has been hard for you," she said, reaching over to take his hand.
"It's not as though it hasn't been interesting," Alain continued, "all this talk about starships and distant planets. I have never been bored." His face took on a troubled expression as he said, "But I have been lonely, knowing that your heart is really somewhere else."
Janeway sighed and said, "You have been amazingly tolerant."
"When will you let go? When will you start living this life?" He looked at her with anguish. "When are we going to start a family?"
Janeway remembered a shelter on a stormy plant, and a man who told her that he was unwilling to sacrifice the present for a future that might not come. Before she could shake herself loose from the flood of memories unleashed by Alain's questions, a hail came from behind her.
"Kamina, Alain!"
They turned to see Batai approaching them, smiling and genial as always. "Good morning!" he called out.
"Good morning, Batai," responded Janeway. Alain remained uncharacteristically silent.
"Well, are you ready? The Administrator has already arrived," said Batai.
"Yes." She turned to Alain. "Will you come along?"
"No, thank you. You do very well on your own," he said, with an edge to his voice. They watched as he stood and walked back into the house. Janeway frowned and turned back to Batai, who smiled with understanding.
"He always was strong-minded," Batai said, "even as a child." That said, they turned and left the courtyard to walk toward the town square.
"It isn't his fault," Janeway said, looking away. "These last few years have been difficult for him."
Batai gave her a searching glance and said, "And for you, I think." Janeway drew a sharp breath, but did not acknowledge the comment.
*****
They reached the town square, where a group of people was gathered near the sapling planted five years earlier. By this time, it had matured into a healthy small tree. The Administrator, a youngish man in distinctive official garb, stood there inspecting it. Janeway remained on the edge of the crowd as Batai approached the Administrator. The official turned to him and said, "There you are, Batai. Perhaps you can explain to me, when crops are dying all over, how this tree is flourishing?"
Batai smiled and explained with pleasure. "This tree is our symbol, our affirmation of life. Everyone in this town gives a part of their water rations to keep it alive." He paused for a moment to judge the effect of his words on the Administrator, and then continued. "We have learned, Administrator, that hope is a powerful weapon against anything, even drought."
The Administrator turned an assessing eye on Batai and nodded his acceptance. The young man was a skilled politician, and had learned not to interfere too drastically in local government.
"A good point," he said. "Perhaps I shall recommend a symbolic tree in each of my communities." The Administrator then smiled broadly and asked, "Now. What business do we have today?"
"We need help if we're to increase the water supply," Batai said. "We think there are ways to reclaim some of our water."
The Administrator hastened to reassure him. "Batai, you're being a bit of an alarmist. True, we're in a drought, but water rationing has produced a sizable saving."
Janeway could no longer keep quiet. She approached the two men and said, "If the weather pattern doesn't change, rationing won't be enough. We'll run out of water."
The Administrator looked at Janeway in some surprise, and then turned to Batai to ask, "Who's this?"
"Kamina, sir."
The name was unfamiliar to the Administrator. "Kamina… Do I know you?"
"No. I haven't spoken to you before."
The Administrator smiled, recognizing a new constituent when he saw one. "Well, Kamina, I'm open to all the people of this town," he said. "I'm delighted to hear what you have to say. Did you have a specific proposal?"
"I suggest we build atmospheric condensers which could extract water from the air," Janeway replied.
The Administrator chuckled a little. He then spoke in a charming, non-committal manner, with a slightly condescending undertone. "Well. Very ambitious. Kamina, was it? And your occupation is…"
"Iron weaving," said Janeway, "and playing the flute."
He looked sharply at her, not sure if she was putting him on, but Janeway kept a completely serious face. The Administrator hurried to soothe any feathers he'd ruffled. "I don't mean to quash your very creative ideas," he said, "but building atmospheric condensers would be a monumental undertaking. We could not hope to sustain such a project."
"Each community would be responsible for its own," Janeway explained. "Condensers could mean the difference between watering our crops, or watching them die."
The Adminstrator was too experienced politically to either commit to this plan or get into an involved discussion over it. He smiled agreeably and stonewalled. "Well, I'll be glad to pass along your suggestion. You'll see that this kind of participatory government works for everybody." He nodded his farewell to the group, and said genially, "Be well, Batai. I shall see you next month."
He said to Janeway in a cool voice, "Good to meet you, Kanina," and then turned and strode away to his next appointment. Janeway winced at the mispronunciation of her name. She knew that it was not intentional, just carelessness, but it indicated the man's superficial interest in her and her proposal. It stung, nevertheless.
"Go carefully, Administrator," Batai called after him. He turned back to Janeway, who continued to stare after the man in some disbelief. "That went very well," he said. "I think he was impressed with you."
Janeway had to chuckle at Batai's comment, but said with a trace of bitterness, "There'll be no atmospheric condensers."
"These things take time, but it will happen. I'm sure of it."
Rather than pursue the subject further, Janeway clapped Batai on the shoulder and said, "Come to dinner tonight, my friend. I'll ask Alain to make that vegetable stew you like so much. Let's talk about building our own condenser."
Batai accepted the invitation, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. As Janeway started toward home, he called out, "Kamina…" She turned back to him.
"Hearing you talk to the Administrator, I realized that for the first time in years, you were speaking as though you were truly a member of the community," he said. "It was good to hear that again." He nodded and walked off.
Janeway stood near the symbolic tree, looking after Batai until he disappeared from sight. She remained there for several minutes while she fully absorbed his statement.
*****
Later that evening, Batai nursed a cool beverage as he sprawled across one of the benches under a tree in the courtyard of Kamina and Alain's home,. A barefoot Janeway sat on the next to last step of a flight of stairs that led up to the balcony level of her home. She played her flute, not especially well, with the melody she was trying to coax from the instrument not quite recognizable. Nevertheless, her playing showed marked improvement from five years earlier. She hit a few sour notes and stopped, working her fingers over the holes to practice her fingering.
"You've been brooding behind that flute all evening," said Batai.
"I'm not brooding. I'm immersed in my music," Janeway said with a smirk.
"Music…"
Janeway looked up from the instrument. "I find that it helps me think," she said with a smile. "But the real surprise is that I enjoy it so much."
Batai gave a small laugh and said, "No… the real surprise is that you may actually be improving."
Alain joined in the laughter as he emerged from within the home. "Batai?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Go home," said Alain, leaning over to clap his friend on the shoulder.
"Yes, sir," Batai said and handed over his glass. He rose and bid Kamina good night and nodded to Alain as he then departed.
Alain reached down to pick up the shoes that Janeway had flung aside earlier, and slapped them together to draw his wife's attention. "Don't forget these," he said. "I won't pick them up for you again."
"Yes, sir," she answered with a smirk.
Alain gave her a sidelong glance, and saw that she was teasing him. He smiled back and said, "I've done nothing but nag today. I'm sorry."
"I'm the one who's sorry," she answered. Janeway paused a moment and then admitted, "Everything you said this morning was absolutely right." Alain stared at her, surprised. She looked up at him and continued. "I've given you so little, and you have given me so much – tenderness, patience, and a good talking to when I needed it." Janeway looked away for a few moments. "You've been more than I could ever have hoped for. More than I deserve."
Hearing these unaccustomed and much longed for words, Alain hastened to her side. "You're a good woman, a wonderful wife. I didn't mean to imply…"
Janeway reached up to touch his mouth gently with her fingertips. "No, not such a wonderful wife," she said. She rested her hand on his shoulder, musing as she spoke. "I spend my spare time charting the stars; disappear for days at a time exploring the countryside. My life is very much as it was… before." Janeway looked at him with a sheepish smile as she said, "Old habits."
"You're gentle and kind," Alain said. "You've never raised your voice to me."
Janeway looked away again and said, "I'd like to ask if it would be too much trouble for you to build something for me."
"Kamina, I've built your telescope, your laboratory – you know it's no trouble for me to build something new."
Janeway ducked her head shyly and then glanced up at him again as she said, "In this case, I think I need to ask."
"What is it?"
She looked deep into his eyes and said, "A nursery."
Alain was taken completely by surprise. After a few moments to digest the enormity of the request, his face beamed.
"Really?" he whispered. He clasped his hands and took a few steps back, as if unable to believe her words. "Really?" he asked again.
"Unless you would rather have a porch," Janeway said as she stood. "It'd certainly be easier to build, and you could make a start on it right away."
"No… no," Alain said, and then laughed and flung his arms around her as she smiled. Then, tenderly and lovingly, Janeway took his face in her hands and stood on tiptoe to kiss his soft, full mouth.
*****
Voyager, 2372
Bridge
The EHM hovered over Janeway, who still lay unconscious on the deck. Kes emerged from the turbolift, bringing more diagnostic equipment from Sickbay. Paris left Janeway's side only long enough to set up the various monitors and other apparatus.
"She's showing heightened activity in the cerebral cortex," said the Doctor.
"Pulse and blood pressure are slightly elevated," said Kes.
"Systemic activity?"
"Increasing. And I'm getting heightened tactile responses."
"Set up a galvanic scan," said the Doctor. Kes adjusted the diagnostic equipment and continued to monitor the Captain's vital signs while Paris set up the scan.
"Torres, any progress identifying the probe?" asked Chakotay.
"Maybe," said Torres. "I've picked up some residue on the probe's shell. I think it came from the propulsion system. It looks like it used a solid propellant as fuel."
"Solid propellant?"
"Sensors read this stuff as crystalline emiristol," answered Torres. "It produces a radioactive trail that ought to be traceable."
"Then we should be able to send out a probe of our own," said Chakotay. "Trace it back to its point of origin."
"I'll get on it."
"Commander, I've been analyzing the nucleonic beam," said Kim. "I believe it would be possible to reflect the particles back toward the probe in a way that would disrupt the signal."
Chakotay turned to EMH with a tough question. "Doctor?"
"I don't know what it's doing to her, or what'll happen if we stop it," said the Doctor. "I simply don't know the risk of shutting down the beam."
"She could be dying by inches."
The EMH reassured him. "Her vital signs are stable. There's no indication she's in a life-threatening situation."
"I'm not willing to let that thing keep drilling into her," said Chakotay.
"If somebody gets stabbed, you don't necessarily pull the knife out right away," said the Doctor. That might do more harm than leaving it there."
Tuvok chose this point in the discussion to offer his opinion. "The Captain is under attack. We must act."
A long moment passed as Chakotay weighed his options. Finally, he said, "I'm inclined to agree. Doctor, monitor her closely. Mister Kim, prepare to disrupt the beam. We're going to try to cut this cord."
