Ch. 10

"Hey! Guess what I just found out today," Tom said excitedly, striding into the living room. A sea of shocked, pale faces met his exuberance. The entire former senior staff of Voyager, minus the command team, were all looking at him. More than a few eyes were rimmed red, and Tom felt his gut sink to somewhere near his toes. "What happened?"

B'Elanna moved towards him, cradling Miral against her shoulder. "They found Kathryn and Madelyn."

Tom stared disbelievingly. If they'd been found, then everyone wouldn't be this upset. He turned with a questioning look to the rest of the group, and the Doctor took pity on him. "More precisely, their remains were identified."

"What? But…that's not possible." Tom looked from the Doctor to Harry to Seven. Desperately searching for one face that wouldn't confirm his worst fear.

"They were found at a shuttle crash site on a moon in the Draconis system," Harry said as B'Elanna guided Tom towards a chair. "From what we've been told, the shuttle took heavy weapons damage. So we think they were trying to escape from whoever took them."

Tom felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. Kathryn Janeway was such a central figure in his life it wasn't possible to even think of it without her. For years, she had tried unsuccessfully to keep her distance emotionally, but the ache that was settling in his chest now was the same as if someone had told him his own sister had been killed. It just wasn't possible. Nothing could kill Kathryn Janeway.

B'Elanna's hand was on his knee. "Tom?"

Even looking into his wife's darkened eyes, ones that he alone could probably tell had been shedding tears, he still felt lost. "When?"

"Admiral Patterson called Chakotay to his office about three hours ago."

"Chakotay." Tom knew the gaping hole torn into his soul could only pale in comparison to what Chakotay must be feeling. "Where is he?"

"Upon receiving the news, he departed Admiral Patterson's office rather abruptly," Tuvok explained. "The admiralty then informed Mrs. Janeway."

"Phoebe called here," B'Elanna offered. "She told us everything."

"Oh, God, Gretchen." Tom scrubbed his face with his hands. "Is there anyone with–"

"Phoebe's with her now, and your mom was checking on her."

"My mom?" Tom asked. "Does Dad know yet?"

"A subspace message has been sent to him," Seven confirmed. "Depending on his current location in the Beta Quadrant, it could be several days before he is informed."

"So…it was a positive identification?" Tom asked, sitting back in his chair. He knew he was grasping for straws; Starfleet didn't alert next of kin without due process, but he couldn't help himself. "There's no doubt?"

"Their DNA was confirmed," the Doctor sadly acknowledged. "The actual remains were too badly disfigured to have a visual–"

"I get it." Tom held up a hand, stopping him from going further.

He absently reached for Miral, wanting to hold her, have her next to his chest where he could feel her heartbeat. She was sound asleep, snuggling into his arms unknowingly. He watched her sleeping face, his unshed tears blurring it in and out of focus. Ever since she'd been born, Maddie had been around, declaring herself Miral's big sister. Telling stories about all the places she and Naomi would take Miral when she got big enough. The adventures the three of them would go on, and how, when Miral got old enough, she could come stay on the starship that Maddie would, of course, be captaining by then. Her timeline was a little skewed, but Tom had always liked the idea of Madelyn and Miral serving on the same starship sometime in the future. Now that would never happen.

"Chakotay hasn't shown up anywhere yet that we know of. Ayala went out to look for him," B'Elanna said. "I figure he'll show up here when he's ready to be found."

Tom nodded. He could understand that. He wouldn't want to be around people, either. He wouldn't want to see pitying stares and hear platitudes of remorse. He'd be on a mission to find who was responsible.

"What were you going to tell us when you came in?" B'Elanna asked, and Tom recognized it for the distraction she was trying to make it. "You seemed like you had something to say."

"Oh. It's nothing now. Doesn't matter." Miral fidgeted in his arms, and he was able to get her tiny fist to wrap around his finger. He smiled as she tried to squeeze it. Her mother was the first half-Klingon in Starfleet. He wondered if she'd be the first quarter-Klingon. It wasn't much of a distinction, but still. Absently, he commented, "Did you know that Starfleet now has a Ferengi in its ranks?"

"Indeed?" Tuvok asked, recognizing the human need for small talk.

"Yeah." Tom looked up at Harry. "You remember that bar at Deep Space Nine where we first met?"

"Quark's." Harry tried to smile. "How could I forget?"

"Well, it's his nephew. Lieutenant Nog," he told the group, "if you can believe that. I met him today. Not at all like his uncle."

"That's good to know. I'd hate to serve with him and have him try to sell me something," Harry joked. It was a small joke, but everyone understood.

"He seemed okay, actually. Don't get me wrong, he could still wheel and deal a case of ale out of a Romulan, but it didn't seem like profit was his primary goal in life."

"A learned behavior, no doubt," Seven commented. "Perhaps he was fortunate and had a good role model."

Tom caught the double meaning of Seven's words. They may be all sitting around discussing something trivial and unrelated, but the thought of Kathryn Janeway continued to permeate the room. Seven had lost her role model. Only one of the many roles Kathryn had played over the years for the gathered group. B'Elanna cleared her throat. "So, uh, why were you talking to him?"

"He'd heard about…Kathryn." Tom had to take a breath to get past the catch in his throat at her name. "When she went missing, that is, he'd heard about that. Wanted to offer his sympathies."

"Really? That was all?" the EMH asked.

"He offered to get in contact with his uncle. See if he'd heard anything. Told me that several times over the years out there they'd hear about slavery rings or the like," Tom told them. "He said it never happened on DS9 because his uncle Quark wouldn't allow it."

"More likely, he would lose his establishment at a Federation controlled station. That would not be good for profit," Tuvok commented.

"Probably." Tom shrugged. "It doesn't really matter now, anyway." He chuckled darkly. "Nog probably just wanted to see about getting a posting on Voyager."

"We'll get him one."

Everyone looked up as Chakotay entered. His hair was wet and stuck down on his forehead, his uniform was soaked through and muddied. He looked as though he'd just climbed out of Lake George. B'Elanna crossed to him immediately, reaching out to him, hesitating at the last minute. She settled for wrapping her hands around his arm. "Chakotay?"

He barely glanced at her, surveying all of their faces. "You all know."

It wasn't a question but a statement. They all nodded solemnly.

"Have you talked to Gretchen?" Tom asked quietly.

Chakotay searched the younger man's eyes, his mind flashing through the past three hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Chakotay, please come in." Admiral Patterson indicated that he should take a seat. "I'm afraid I have some bad news." He paused uncomfortably. "There's really no other way for me to say this…"

"Just say it, sir," Chakotay forced the words out of his mouth, but he couldn't look up at the older man. Instead, he stared at the desk, his eyes tracing the grain of the wood until he lost focus enough that all he could see was a brown blur.

"The Dakota, one of our science ships, found a crashed shuttle two days ago. We didn't notify you immediately because we wanted a chance to examine the results ourselves before we made any declarations… DNA tests prove that the remains found in the wreckage…well, it was Kathryn and Madelyn. I'm sorry, son."

The news that his wife and daughter had to be identified by DNA only didn't really hit him the way he thought it would. It was too abstract. It meant nothing. But a roar was building in his mind. The part of him that had heard and understood the admiral's words was railing against what it meant. The words having penetrated the hazy shield he'd erected were now lancing into his heart, tearing strips off of it as more of what the admiral said became real.

The admiral was still talking, something about what planet it was on, the shuttle bore signs of phaser fire, probably escaping. Chakotay didn't hear all the details. He didn't need to. Kathryn had stolen a shuttle and had tried to escape with Madelyn from whoever it was that had taken them. They'd been shot down. They'd crashed onto the surface of a planet. And burned.

Died.

Why? Because he hadn't been there for them. He hadn't been able to find them and rescue them. He'd done nothing, and now they were gone. And he was alone because, once again, he hadn't been there when his family needed him.

Admiral Patterson was still talking. "…investigation into Maquis closed…"

But Chakotay's thoughts were in that shuttle with his family. Had his wife and child died together? Or had Kathryn been sitting by herself at the helm, fighting the controls, fighting the inevitable pull of a planet's gravity? Had Madelyn listened to Kathryn's instructions and strapped herself in somewhere towards the back of the shuttle where she would have been safer, or had she ignored her mother and sat next to her at the controls, wanting to be near her? A strangled laugh bubbled out of Chakotay at the thought; that was at least one question he could answer.

"Captain Chakotay?"

The admiral's concerned voice broke into his downward spiral. He could only imagine what the admiral must think. He'd just been told his wife was dead, and he was sitting there giggling to himself. But of course Patterson hadn't known Maddie, hadn't known how precocious she could be…hadn't known so many things…and now he never would. Chakotay looked up to find Kathryn's early mentor staring at him with saddened eyes.

"You would've liked Maddie, Admiral." He barely managed to not choke on the words. "She was a lot like Kathryn."

Patterson simply nodded, seeming to understand. "I have no doubt, Captain. I'm sorry I never got to meet her."

Chakotay felt numb. His mind had gone blank. So much to take in. Too much. Best not to think at all. He forced himself to his feet. The movement was unsteady, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do next. He simply stood, trying to process. The admiral asked if he would inform Voyager's crew, and he managed to nod. Not knowing really what he was agreeing to, just knowing that he needed to agree in order to leave. "Is…is that all?"

The admiral seemed to hesitate before reaching for a small box on his desk. He opened it slowly, turning it towards Chakotay. "This was also found in the wreckage. I thought you'd like to have it."

Settled against the dark velvet of the box was a small hunk of metal. Chakotay had to force his eyes to focus. It was a rank bar. An admiral's rank bar. Darkened from soot and slightly melted on one end but still recognizable. He reached out a trembling hand to pluck it from the box. It was cool to the touch, which shouldn't have been surprising, but he'd expected it to still radiate the heat that had abused it. He rubbed his thumb over the encased pips before slowly turning the bar over in his hand. There on the back, almost too small to see, was the engraving he'd put on it for her. His heart clenched as he stared at the symbol of his father, the symbol he wore on his face, the symbol she'd insisted he put there. She'd said she wanted it there on the back of her rank as close to her skin as it could be because he would always come before Starfleet. He stared at it until his tears blurred it out of existence. The beast inside him roared in agony.

The next thing he remembered was rain. Pelting, driving rain against his face. He was running. As hard and as fast as he could, his chest heaving with the exertion that as a younger man he wouldn't have felt. Collapsing to his knees, he screamed at the sky. Furious, agonizing pain exploding out of him towards the heavens. The cold metal bar still clutched tightly in his fist, digging into his skin, one sharp corner pricking his palm. He didn't know where he was. He didn't care. Only when his throat burned and his voice gave out did he lower his head to the ground. Even in the deep wet grass, he felt the hot tears burn as they left trails across his face.

A hand touched his shoulder, pulling him up, and he blinked through the rain to see the care-worn face of Gretchen Janeway. Leaving Admiral Patterson's office he'd transported to the Janeway family residence, but upon seeing the house, he'd turned away. Unable to bring the news of death to a family that had borne so much pain over the years. How was he supposed to tell Kathryn's mother that she had once again lost her elder daughter? Her grand-daughter? Tell her that once again she had to say good-bye to those she held most dear? Could he give her the knowledge that she'd gotten to hold her daughter so briefly only to once again have her ripped away? No.

He'd run. Through the fields that had seen Kathryn as a child, fields that she'd longed to get away from but always looked back to. Fields that had made his daughter sneeze during her first visit to her grandmother's home. He'd run to the hill where Kathryn's tree stood, overlooking the land. The tree that Maddie had insisted on climbing because her mother had, even though she'd never climbed a real tree before in her life. The tree that Kathryn had run to in her youth when she needed solace.

And that's where Gretchen had found him. She didn't have to ask, and he didn't have to say it. The older woman simply pulled him to his feet and led him back to the house. Phoebe had embraced him in the kitchen. Tears pouring down her face as she cried into his chest, leaving him long enough to fetch towels from the bathroom, so they could all dry off. He'd said nothing. Not a single word.

After several minutes, Phoebe had gathered up the wet towels and excused herself. It was only then Chakotay realized that Gretchen's eyes, unlike his and Phoebe's, were dry. She noticed the disbelief as it crossed his face, and she reached for his hand. The hand that still clutched the rank bar.

"I'm through shedding tears, Chakotay." She slowly pried his fingers open, taking the bar from his hand. She wiped the grime from it with the tail of her shirt then examined it carefully. "For four years, they told me she was dead, and I didn't believe them. And I was proved right." She placed the bar back in the palm of his hand. "Do you think a few weeks and a little piece of metal are going to be enough to convince me this time?"

Chakotay stared at her, trying to make his mind catch up to what she was saying. "Gretchen…I…they found…"

"Oh, I know what they found. They called here. Told us everything." She shrugged. "I suppose this is more proof than they had last time, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough." Placing her hand over his, she curled his fingers back into a fist around the rank bar. "You find her Chakotay, and you give this back to her."

He wanted so badly to believe her. She was giving a voice to his thoughts, the thoughts he dared not speak aloud, and it was a balm to the open wound in his heart. She turned away from him, looking out the window at the rain falling down over the field.

"I will only bury her once, Chakotay. So you go and find her. Bring her and that sweet youngin' back to me." She faced him again, and her eyes were a hard blue. A hard blue that he knew only too well. "And if you can't find her…you find the ones responsible."

Tom's eyes weren't the hard blue that Gretchen Janeway's had been, but they drew Chakotay back to the present. Back to the room where everyone was watching him expectantly.

"Gretchen doesn't believe that they're dead. And neither do I." He strode further into the room, only briefly squeezing B'Elanna's hand. "Starfleet hasn't offered anything definitive. So call this 'Nog' back, Tom. Find out about every sleazy operation he's ever heard of. He wants a posting on Voyager? He can have it if he comes through. He wants the Delta Flyer? Give it to him. Whatever it takes." Chakotay turned towards the EMH. "Doctor, they won't let me see the bodies."

"Well, Captain, that isn't unusual in a case like–"

"I want you to see them. I want you to perform the autopsy."

"Based on the evidence they gave you, the autopsy has already been completed."

"Then get the report. Go over it. Find something, Doctor." He turned towards Tuvok next. "Talk to your contacts in security. They handled the investigation of this case like first year cadets. I want you and Seven to go back over everything. Find what they missed." Not waiting for their acceptance, he turned his attention back to the other side of the room. "B'Elanna, I want you and Harry to examine the wreckage of the shuttle. I don't care if you have to steal a shuttle and go out to the planet yourselves."

"And if we find nothing?" Tuvok asked, voicing the question for the entire room.

Chakotay held out his fist to everyone and slowly uncurled his fingers, revealing the rank bar. Extra creases lined the palm of his hand where he'd clenched the small piece of metal. His voice shook with emotion. "I refuse to believe that this is all I have left of my family. I refuse to believe that, once again, my family has been reduced to bone and ash and the only thing I can do is bury them. We'll find something. We'll look under every rock in this quadrant until we find my wife and child." He closed his fist again. "Or we'll find who murdered them."