Kathryns POV
No clouds. No reference as to how high above sea level I am.
As a cadet I spent many hours cruising Earths atmosphere; the planets specific size and therefore specific curve at a certain height had become a reliable gauge for me to estimate my altitude. That was a long time ago however, and these akwardly curved portholes are overwhelmed with white sunlight. Paperlike suncreens are rendered ineffective when leaning in close to see the desert down below. My eyes give in to the white burn of sunrays and warm tears of protest threaten to flow down my cheeks.
All I know is I'm high above sea level. Very high, probably too high to go out without a pressuresuit and definitely too high to breath without an oxygen mask. I know that in the hard vacuum of space one could last about fifteen seconds, assuming of course you had deeply exhaled to keep your lungsacs from exploding due to decompression. So, there you have it: my estimated window of opportunity were I to climb down the elevatorshaft all the way to the desert below, ten, maybe twenty kilometers beneath me...Fifteen seconds.
'Window of opportunity...' I snicker at the word.
"Do not worry madam, we have not left your precious Earth" his lazy French tintles my neckhair as he assures me of something I had already figured out. I turn to see the Skeleton appear from behind the centre of the donutshaped room. The sepia-colored paper that partly covers the windows and the chaotic mess inside the eerie chamber remind me of maestro DaVinci's workplace. The Skeleton even seems less menacing as he slithers in my direction.
"I understand your relief; I too feel strongly about our planet" at this he holds his balled fist against his bare chest. "...but this, this is where all values made way to greed." he says. "Greed, power , boredom -all self-strengthening traits, n'est-ce pas?" My eyebrows curl in confusion. He points his colorful arm to one of the windows further down the row of portholes. "There are no homes down there, everyone here is merely passing through life." I tentatively move towards it and with squinted eyes I manage to make out the archaic palmshaped Island that was once a quintessential feat of human engineering. It is the telltale I had been searching for. "Dubai." I conclude.
Chakotays POV
All eyes are on me as I confidently step onto the bridge. I don´t welcome it´s familiarity for this is not how I wish to remember it.
"Welcome back, Commander." Voyagers Captain offers me a solid handshake. "No more, Harry, no more." I tell him. The red shouldered uniform seems to broaden him and his greying hair is longer than it had been. "We're scanning Earth as we speak but we think he's using some sort of scattering device." He gestures for me to follow him to his former station at operations. "How so?" I ask. "The coordinates given by the surviving Klingon at your house are all situated in major cities." He shuffles through enlarged maps as he continues "...Londons subway system, an ancient storageroom in Capetown, this one is in Bombay..." His fingers fly over the panel that still appears to belong to him, rather than to the ensign who officially occupies it now. I know he could do this blindfolded as one hand taps the buttons with quick ease and the other moves on the rythm of his speech, its opened palm somehow adds clarity to his explanation. "All these places should be accesible with the clearence we're given by Admiral Paris. Tuvok tells me however that delinquents often scatter their bio-patterns and add the minuscule bits to surrounding ones. When this is done over a population of millions the pattern you're looking for gets lost in the mass." I nodd in understanding "You can't see the forrest for the trees." "Exactly" he says.
I've processed the information by the time I say "Good work" and remain hunched over the station as I automatically act on what I've been dealt with "Ask Seven if she can sift through all Earths patterns more efficiently. Also, she may be able to piece Janeways pattern back together if she focusses on the places the Klingon gave us. B'Elanna can start enhancing the scanners so you might want to reroute auxiliary power and make Tom initiate a looped search-sequence."
"Yes sir" He says. It's a gut reaction, as if the impuls hasn't reached his brain but took the shortcut through his spine. For a moment we freeze at the embarrasing realization of how easily we slipped into the old habbit.
"That, at least, would be my suggestion." I stammer.
He nods and heads back to her seat. His seat. His seat.
Kathryns POV
His painted on teeth form a selfindulging smirk. "You are here, madam, simply because I wish to 'ave you here." He unfolds his hands and spreads his arms amicably. "The room is more interesting with you in it." I realise I´ve become a collectable. Among wooden dolls, books, bottles of whine and absinth, paintings and sculptures I am now another item in the showcase of his twisted worldview.
"I appreciate the suiting surroundings but I can assure you, I have no interest in being your Scheherazade." He smiles and moves to a luggage container on a nearby desk while he continues "A shame, I'm sure you know exciting stories of courage and adventure." He pauses to rummage through some things and doesn't continue until he's found his treasure. The blood on my face has dried and I can feel flakes of it breaking when I speak. I think I may have broken a rib during the last beating and I know my foot has been trampled so hard my nail is bound to turn a dark shade of blue before it will come off. "If you deprive me of your stories then your answers will do." He holds out his hand and I'm shocked at the realisation of what it contains.
"Where did you.." I hastily stumble towards him. I've almost crossed the distance between us as a piercing pain goes through my ribcage and I grab his held out wrist to steady myself.
I retrieve the much valued ring from between his undeserving thumb and indexfinger.
"Where did you..." I shift both my head and the delicate piece of jewelry so I can read the elegant inscription inside, "Wear this as a token of my love, yours forever, Gretchen" I shake my head in disbelief. "It's in pristine shape, still perfectly readable...after six years Chakotays name is already wearing off mine."
The image of my lonely mother comes back vivedly. She's sitting at the kitchentable with a plate of homecooked food gone cold. As always, I feel responsible somehow but I stand powerless in the doorway, my high grades and good sportsreviews are inadequate tools to fix her. "He said he'd be back in time to tuck you in" she promises my gullible babysister with deflated optimism.
"He never wore it..." It's whispered in a dreamlike state but regardless of its soft sound I realise I just shared an intimacy with this conniving man and can't help but feel exposed.
My face and voice harden as I move my flickering gaze back to his marble-like eyes that suddenly seem set in desire. "...dirty tricks and manipulations." I say randomly. I curse myself for being fooled and my nostalgia has made way for utter disdain, hatred even. I quickly let go of his wrist and want to balance myself to the nearby desk. Before I get the chance he grabs me by my elbows and thrusts his nose into my hair. "What are you doing?!" I panic, not quite overcome from my previous shift in sentiment and overwhelmed by his sudden force. My face is above his shoulder as he further buries his face in the side of my neck and I'm free to search the room for something, anything. He moves his hands from my elbows to my shoulders and from my shoulders to my face as he corners me against the desk. The sudden movement forces the luggagecontainer to the floor and its insides spread out in a loud clatter. My recently freed hands blindly search the surface behind me and find an undefinable shape to hold on to. The Skeleton holds my face and studies it closely as if he were looking for a tiny splinter. I return the favour and can only now appreciate the detail of the skillfully applied skull. The skull on the wrong side of his skin.
"Vous êtes formidable." He says.
In one decisive swing the unknown object lands on his head. It doesn't have the slightest effect and time stops for a split second as we both look at the inept thing in my hand. We realise simultaneously that it's an unfolded stapler and just before he thrusts up his elbow to fend me off I press it onto his face. I hear the spring crinch together as the old mechanism sadistically leaves a metallic bite in his cheekbone. He steps back with a scream and in doing so grands me the chance to look for a more suitable weapon. All I manage is to turn around and reach for a glass bottle of liquor on the far end of the desk but he has me overpowered once more. Despite his dangly appearance he still outweighs me and my strenght is no match to his. He pushes my arm up behind my back and the uncomfortable pain makes me cringe. His free hand circles my throat and he hisses long French sentences in my ear that melt together in a prayerlike mantra. I can almost feel a snakes tong tickling my earlobe as he caresses my throat and pushes me hard against the desk. The bottle tops over, leaving the sound of rolling glass on wood resonating through my bonemarrow. "..you will obey, I'll make you if I must." He moves his hand from my throat and pulls at the back of my bloodstained blouse, giving me the chance to grab for the bottle in front of me. In the knowledge that no man can ever say those words to me, let alone act on them, I loudly smash the bottle on the table, turn it in my hand and thrust it backwards. At first, I'm not sure if and where I hit him but the liberating answer comes to me in the form of his loosening grip. He silently sinks down to his knees as the anise-smell of spilled absinth fills my nostrils.
"I've never responded well to threats."
Chakotays POV
Earth had moved horizonally in the suns light and mighty Afrika, now veiled in dusk, is spread out in front of me -I painfully deduce that the solar system, unlike me, is unmoved by recent events.
Seven and B'Elanna had admired the view with me for a while after we had come to the harsh conclusion that, allthough our tactic would prove helpfull to archeologist looking for scattered fossils, piecing together a puzzle of specific biopatternbits wasn't getting us anywhere in the search for my beloved wife. Even the sophisticated instruments in Voyagers science-lab hadn't been of help in finding the algorithm needed to filter out the designated DNA-strands. Kathryn might have been of help.
Back when this magnificent view would still receive the awe it deserves, this lab facilitated many projects that Kathryn had been engulfed in. Whenever time would permit she would think of something that needed tweeking, studying, calculating...anything.
My first shimmer of hope at a life together with her was elicited in this very room.
"Goodmorning" I say to Voyagers seemingly empty laboratory. I should've known she'd pulled an all-nighter. The light is turned down and mugs, cups, padds and petridishes cover the workcounters. I don't see Kathryn until she greets me from the corner to my right. "Chakotay." She almost whispers. "Come look at this" She nudges her head to her sciencestation and smiles tenderly as though she's about to show me a newborn child. She's thrown her jacket on the counter behind her and has neglected to attach the commbadge to her grey shirt. "It's from one of the borg nodes we collected." She still whispers and looks at the figures as though they are magical faries dancing on a pond, the slightest ripple would be enough to alert them of our presence and scare them off. I bite my lip to hide my amusement and let her enthusiasm lead me. "It's through electroweak symmetry breaking that fundamental particles acquire mass, interaction with the Higgs-field being fundamental in this, of course." She checks if I'm still with her and seems satisfied with my interest. Breaking off our shortly lived eyecontact, she continues towards the screen. "Now, the Higgs particle doesn't interact with massless particles such as photons, but this data seems to suggest, and I'm just scratching the surface here, but it seems to suggest that the spontaneous interaction with the Higgs Boson-particles can be influenced via an extra field of neutralizing negative-force..." I never look at the digits, regardless of how groundbreaking a theory they might suggest, watching her face so full of emotion is a more mesmerizing spectacle. "... Higgs-Boson is after all a mere force-transferring particle, if the reaction can be prevented all mass could be rendered to mere light." She shakes her head in disbelief and mindlessly takes my right elbow into her lefthand. I can't believe my luck for visiting her on this early morning and stealing this precious, dimlit moment before Voyager wakes and all systems are running at peak efficiency again. "This might shed some light on..." she shortly hesitates before naming the holy grale of today's particle physics "...transwarp travelling." She looks at me af if she wishes to include me in a fiendish plot. "Well?" It occurs to me that no alien influence, no isolation in a turbolift or on some alien planet, no near death experience; no external influence is needed to finally break my self control. An ordinary day with her will do. "What do you think?" She persists innocently. My unwavering eyes linger on hers and I sigh in response. Only now she properly turns her head towards me and drops her hand from my elbow. "Chakotay?" It's barely audible. I turn to her and our closeness, that had been void of tension when we where both facing the panel, increasess exponentially. With my right arm I lean against an overhanging bulkhead behind her and lower my forehead to less than an inch from hers. She's shocked and I can feel her exhale irradically.
"Tell me to step back and I'll never be this close to you again." I say.
For some reason we seem miles from the bridge, the crew, the directive and our formal stiffness that dictates our days. I don't want to know about any of it. I just want to keep watching her lips as they pronounce silent words. Unable to reply she akwardly shifts towards my arm which I gently lower to let her pass. No reaction would suffice and I see her struggle to come up with a clever response, or rather the least damaging one. She steps towards the door, turns around bewildered and confused, and finally heads out. Idiot. Whenever we get too close she moves away for weeks and at those times I had never been this explicit. I lean on the counter and lower my head in defeat. What have I done? What have I done?! Her uniform jacket lies in front of me. *Beep*. Captain Janeway, please report to the Bridge* She forgot her badge. I pick up the small jacket and squeeze the fabric in search of the damned thing. At that moment the door hisses open and Kathryn steps back in. She looks as though she hasn't inhaled since she last exited and her mouth is open, still in an expression of shock and disbelief. She approaches for the jacket and reaches over the counter. "That data..." she starts hesitantly "...there are far too many unknown variables to draw conclusions at this point." She searches for words. "...unknown consequences, you see." We are both holding the jacket and it forms the perfect contact during this delicate moment, we're not touching but stand bridged none the less. Without the jacket and the counter between us, she might not have felt the safety needed to speak up. "Perhaps back on Earth, in a more controlled environment, we might...explore the possibilities." *Captain please respond* A poorlier timed request hasn't occured in the history of communicationstechnology. She closes her eyes in annoyance. "That is, if by that time one of us hasn't lost interest" she adds in a hurry. "Right" I say firmly and hand her the jacket. "...hard to imagine though; losing interest in such a...phenomenon." I add. My ambiguity allows her to think I humor her analogy. She turns for the door. Before responding to the call she looks back one last time. I try to save the image in my mind for I fear I might never see someone so beautifull again, so full of life. The lighting even holds a warmth it usually lacks. "Quite interesting..." she smirks and playfully raises her eyebrows. The daylight-mode in the corridor must have just switched on as the doors open and this time a clinical fluorescence rudely hacks into the lab and into our forbidden moment. "...Quite interesting indeed" she smiles and steps out, back into daily life. I can just hear her answer yet another hail before the door closes and I'm left alone.
Utterly alone. I don't think I ever recalled that loneliness before.
I've turned my back to Earths marvel and can almost see our ghosts interact as I play out the memory. I had deemed myself too forward at the time but now I wish I had just spelled out my attraction to her on the first day we met.
*Beep* Chakotay, please report to the bridge.* ...Typical.
Kathryns POV
"Tom taught me an impression."
"Show me." I say as I pull Layla diagonally across my lap and onto the couch. "It's a leprechaun in a box" she announces seriously and tightly covers her mouth with a cupped hand. Her voice sounds muffled as she continues "let me out. Hey, let me out!". I laugh hard and cover her face with kisses. "That's wicked!" Her giddy laughter elevates the room and I seek Chakotays eyes as he silently watches our interaction.
Voyagers mess hall is empty but for my family. Edward lets model spaceships collide above the glass table and Chakotay sits in a ninety degree angle to my left in one of the grey loungechairs. His right elbow is perched up on the armrest to support his tired head. Unlike my children, who have little understanding of my ordeal, he seems to have aged considerably over the past twenty-four hours.
"I wonder," I tell him "I always said I'd like to teach quantum mechanics at the academy, why didn't I ever seriously consider that option?" He smiles and exhales "I don't know." He says exhausted. "How would you like two teachers for parents?" I turn back to Layla who gives me a disgusted look in response. I pinch her nose and say "I rather like the idea."
Chakotay slowly shifts in his seat to extend his hand which I eagerly accept. It leaves a red print on his face where it had been before. "We'll be fine." I tell him as I playfully swing our intertwined hands between our seats in an attempt to invoke a reaction. "I have some changes to make, but I have a feeling we'll be fine." I repeat.
Voyager takes its time before disembarking, giving us much needed room to breathe before facing the circus back in Indiana. A lot of loose ends need tying up and I feel I don't yet have the strenght. I've felt like this before: both anxious and optimistic to get home. This time, however, I've learned to do things a little different. Armed with my family as my anchor I look out the giant mess hall windows and see America slowly pass by. My lips curl into a smile when I understand Tom takes the ship for another round around the planet and gives us the opportunity to watch the magnificent spectacle of Earth passing by once again.
Chakotay squeezes my hand "That sounds like a good life." He says.
