PRIME DIRECTIVE: Space may be the final frontier, but I'll never get there by any monies derived from this as Harry Potter and all properties of such are owned by the Dark Lady JKR. All content, characters related to Star Trek are owned by Paramount Pictures, Inc....except maybe some of that stuff that ended up being used in Starfleet Battles which is owned by the Amarillo Design Bureau who used much of their content via the Starfleet Technical Manual by Franz Joseph Schnaubelt and published by Ballantine Books.

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – GRAVITY – PART TWO

(Episode: Very AU version of ST: VOY Gravity)

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PITHY STATEMENT RELATING TO THIS CHAPTER: "I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens." – Heywood "Woody" Allen – American director, writer, actor, and comedian – 1935 – Present

LAST UPDATED ON: 03-21-2021

ARRAKEEN, UNKNOWN PLANET, SECTOR 366, DELTA QUADRANT – 2 MONTHS, 14 DAYS AFTER CRASH

"I don't think he has much time left," Maria said quietly to Tom as she worked on repairing a power conduit from the Flyer to the Vaartig. The sun had yet to come up but there was enough light to work by. There was a sadly a short window of comfort between the icy chill of nighttime and the blistering heat of the day. Therefore, this time of the morning was the favorite time to do any work on the outside of their home for the foreseeable future.

Paris looked up from where he was looking over meteorological sent down from the balloon he had dubbed the Verne after the classic book Around the World in 80 Days. It had been a favorite of his mother's and she had read it too him often when he was a child. Probably why he ended up becoming a pilot and love of speed. He looked in the direction of where his lover was looking to see Harry Potter standing alone, leaning on a staff on an outcropping that afforded a good view of the terrain below. He'd been up there a lot of late.

Tom sighed, "It must be odd, thinking you're going to live forever. Making your peace with knowing you'll outlive everyone you love. Then to find your life is going to be over soon. It's like he's just treading water till his time comes."

"I think he welcomes it. Because of what he did to Galaron III," Maria said sadly.

Paris shook his head and laughed humorlessly, "Maybe he does. But I probably know more about him than anyone else. We talked a lot while everyone thought I was cooling my heels in the cell on Voyager. It took a while but I know enough to think it has less to do with the actual crime and just that he was conditioned to feel responsible. All his life, he's been put into a position where he had to act or others might die. It's funny, in a sick way. You know I'm a big fan of a lot of stuff from around time that Harry actually grew up in, right?"

Maria nodded, "I think all the movies and other weird crap you do makes that obvious."

Paris grinned, "Oh you know you love me for it."

Maria found herself smiling even with how sad it was for Harry, "Yes, for who knows why, I actually do."

Paris's face softened and the two share a silent moment together; happy to simply be with one another. Paris finally said, "Well there were a lot of movies around the time the one Harry's armor comes from which were about another super-hero. That character's mantra was 'With great power comes with great responsibility' which sounds like a wise saying, right?"

"I'm sensing a but coming on," Maria said as she went back to the power conduit which was stubbornly resisting repair.

"You got it. Listening to Harry I realize how much power can be a curse. In fact, I have to say I sort of understand the Commodore better. I mean what do you do when something happens and you're there and you could make a difference. Even if it's not your business or place, you are there. You could help. To do nothing might seem like moral cowardice." Paris said as he began to flip one of Maria's spanner's around as he spoke.

"I think Tuvok would say that sort of thinking is what gets us humans into trouble. We equate responsibility with a moral duty," Maria pointed out. "Treana would also say that you don't owe the universe anything. If you were to help, it's on you. The lives of others are their own responsibility. I'd say things were situational and leave it at that."

Paris nodded, "Sound about right on all counts. I'm just saying that Harry got two things hammered into him as a kid. His abusive relatives told him he was a freak, a burden, someone people would be better off without. Then, when he got into the magical world, he was hailed as a hero and had the sacrifice of his martyred parents practically beaten into him. His own mentor might well have been guilty of manipulating this because of a prophecy he knew since a little after Harry had been born. Harry told me that he often feels everything in his early life was fiddled with so he'd be at the right place, in the right frame of mind to go willingly to his death."

"But he didn't die, obviously," Maria pointed out. She continued to work before she realized that a long time had gone by without Tom saying anything. She looked up to see him have a pensive look on his face, "Tom, he didn't die, right?"

Paris shook his head, "I don't know, babe. From what he told me after we killed a lot of alcohol was he did die but he didn't stay dead. You know any of the really old Earth myths?"

Maria nodded, "A far amount. My dad was an anthropology teacher before he retired. That and I've looked at a lot of the stuff Treana has been reading to learn more about humans and their culture."

"So, you know a lot of the ancient Greek myths?" Tom asked.

"Come on Tom! Most people know them. It doesn't help every other spaceship is still named after one of those old gods or heroes," Maria said with an exasperated look.

Paris shook his head and grinned sheepishly, "Right. Sorry. Anyway, the way Harry put it was it was like he died but then because he had a piece of Voldemort's soul in him, when it came time to pay the Ferryman to cross into Death's realm, it was a one soul, one trip sort of thing. So, Harry didn't have to go on. He had the option of coming back. To me, it sounds like he was dead; it just didn't stick. The sad thing is, he had a choice to go be with his dead loved ones and get off the crazy ride his life had been but the drive to save his friends was strong. So here he is, almost 400 years later and literally billions of lives dead at his hands because of that choice."

Maria whistled softly, "Wow…that's fucked up. No wonder Harry says he's messed up. I can't imagine how people must have treated him when that came up."

Again, Paris laughed humorlessly, "Oh Harry hated the 'Jesus-Lite' reputation he got from people in the know. In fact, it keeps happening. Harry told me that one of the reasons Treana jumped him was he was like her God who had saved her from the Borg."

Maria snorted. She could well imagine how uncomfortable that probably made Harry feel. Still, she doubted Harry hated how it led the Orion into his bed. She'd never really looked at women sexually before Treana. Oh sure, there was always the push back home to try and overcome 'biological determinism' and the like. She just hadn't gone through the phase a lot of her friends did where it seemed edgy to ignore men and only date girls. Not that her home planet wasn't anything but rather backwards and Maria knew it. With Treana, however, it was hard not to be totally taken in by her and given Orion women's pheromones only worked on males, the desire had been all due to Treana's force of personality and excellent actions in bed…or in the shower, on the floor, or against the wall or wherever the Orion felt she could get away with it.

Maria thought about how much life and love could be contained in just the confines of their bed when she, Treana and Paris really got into it. It saddened her that Harry got cheated out it. Harry had admitted to her once when she and Tom had visited him on the Phoenix how while in one sense he very much loved his wife and three children, they were very much a product of the life he had been expected to lead. The life mapped out by everyone else but him. Even now, with a sort of fresh start in the 24th Century, Harry was going to be denied that.

A thought struck her, "I think he's tired of being the Master of Death if anything."

Paris stopped flipping the spanner and looked at her, "What do you mean?"

Maria put down her own tools and turned more towards Tom. "Look, Harry went from an abusive home right into the beginnings of a civil war. He killed his first person at eleven, right? Then after the war, he ends up in the marriage everyone expected of him and into the job he'd sort of been conditioned to take."

Paris nodded, "Being an auror, right. He once told me he did try, right after the war, to quit so he could become a professional Quidditch player but everyone told him how needed he was and what a symbol of hope for England he was."

Maria nodded, "Exactly! Harry deferred what he wanted because of this sense of responsibility. Then he ends up having to send all of his people away to save them even though he couldn't save himself. Then what? The next decade or so he's killing his way into the history books."

"Yeah but he did that to be able to save people and get them away before the nuclear war," Paris pointed out.

Maria snorted, "Only to have them all assimilated. So, in the end, all that death for nothing. While I'm sure Treana and all the other drones would deny it, I have to ask, was suffering for almost 200 years to save the lives of those few drones worth it? He finally escapes the Borg and he inadvertently helps Janeway kill a lot of Species 8472. The Hirogen were probably barely a blip on his scanners given his history. Then what happens?"

Paris looked sad and looked away, "He's got to rush in to save the day but ends up killing an entire planet in the process."

Maria nodded, "Yes, he saved us at the cost of Galaron III. For all he life, he's tried to do the right thing and the biggest result is that the bodies of his enemies far outweigh the lives he saved. He truly is a Master of Death. He hasn't become Death's master but a master in dealing out death and I think he's happy that his days of killing his way to save people is almost over."

Paris looked back up to where Harry stood, his billowy desert clothes flapping in the wind. "I think you're right about that."

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6km FROM ARRAKEEN, TARTARUS, SECTOR 366, DELTA QUADRANT – 2 MONTHS, 22 DAYS AFTER CRASH

"What are you doing out here, Harry?" Samantha asked as she crested the summit of the hill to find the wizard sitting on a rock, leaning on his staff while staring out over the craggy landscape. Jengo, the Skurk botanist followed behind her, carrying a backpack almost ran into her due to her stopping so fast.

Harry turned, "Making Jengo your Sherpa again, I see." His voice sounded old to his ears. Then again, he finally was looking his age. He was sort of disappointed that he never got a chance to grow a Dumbledore beard and see if beard curling was as interesting as Dumbledore seem to think it was. Of course, in this land of sand and grit, it would just be that much more to get dirty and fouled.

Samantha scowled but Jengo perked up at the sound of her name. "I help!" While technically true, referring to Jengo as female was simply because she was female at this time as were most of the Skurks not in cryostasis. Only Gazali and a Skurk named Tern who did a lot of scouting were currently male. In Skurk society, there was little difference between whatever gender a Skurk was at that the time. It wasn't uncommon for a Skurk to change gender once or twice in their lifespan. Indeed, paired Skurks would often have one father a child to the other, then switch gender before having another child. Both Maria and Samantha felt a bit cheated that they could not do the same. Harry bet Tom was rather smug about it.

With the reality of them spending at least the next ten years here, Tom and Maria were still weighing whether or not to have a child. Sometimes Harry wondered if Noss might be starting to think the same thing regarding Tuvok by the way she looked at him when he wasn't watching.

Harry watched as Samantha and Jengo began to take some soil samples. He knew they were trying to get a reading from various points on how long this area had been the arid wasteland it was. Finding new sources of water was critical with Harry rapidly losing the ability to create water. With their location being so dry, it was imperative to find more water even as Tuvok and others were working on plans to glean moisture from the air like the Vulcans of old had done.

Due to the terrain and climate, they ended up calling the planet Tartarus in keeping with the original Terran theme of using the Roman name of Greek gods. Although Harry had felt Tom's oft repeated joke of it being "as hot as Hades" got old quickly.

For his part, Harry had rapidly gotten to understand why older folks disliked the cold. His bones ached if he had to go outside after dark. Of course, as the days went by, almost everything ached. Worse were his old wounds, almost long forgotten which ached the worse. The scar from the basilisk fang and the one from the Hungarian Horntail being the two that hurt the most. Harry was surprised the one scar he expected to hurt, the one on his forehead, didn't.

As Harry continue to sit on the boulder he'd been perched on since before first light, he alternated between watching Samantha and Jengo go about trying to work around the language barrier. The Skurk tongue proved to be almost impossible for humans to speak so everyone alternated between Federation Standard and Paroli. Most of the Skurks knew enough of that tongue that it was fast becoming the standard away from camp. Tom lamented Treana was picking it up Paroli faster than she was Standard.

Harry had learned just three days ago that he couldn't speak Parsel speech any longer. He'd often used that language to keep the snakes away or bribing some with food to help keep other snakes and the spiders out of the camp. He missed it. Snakes weren't much in the way of conversation but it had helped pass the time.

He brought up his binoculars as his eyes had rapidly deteriorated back to being worse than when he was a teen. He didn't have the interface to fiddle with the repurposed Borg nanotech in his body so he couldn't correct it and while they had sand a plenty, no one knew to make old fashioned glasses and med kits didn't come stocked with Retinax V. The visors everyone wore during the day to save one's eyes from the glare didn't help either.

He didn't know what he was looking for. Still, it gave Harry comfort to come out and watch. Most days he hung out around the Verne and worked to keep it afloat. With his magic waning, they were back to using hot air for floatation. He could run the heating unit well enough. With his body aging rapidly, it wasn't like Harry was in any condition to do any of the more manual work needed around the camp.

Harry sighed. There had been so much he could be doing with magic. Now the small camp was struggling even with the Federation tech and power from the Flyer. But then again, it was probably best that they quickly were weaned off his magic given they'd be here long after he finally died.

And he was dying. He could almost feel the seconds ticking away. The Deathly Hallows would be returning to their maker soon enough.

"You alright there Harry?" Samantha asked from where she sat cross-legged in the lee of a boulder. "You look sad."

Harry smiled thinly, "Just wishing this wasting away had come later. I was looking forward to going out to find out who else might be out there. Plus, who knows? With enough wrecks, we probably could cobble together a lifter with the speed and range to do some real exploring. There could be an ocean filled with fish just a few hundred kilometers in any direction. Or cities filled with sentients. It would have been fun. I never got to do any of that. Exploring I mean. Never got to do much of anything fun now that I think of it. Just a lot of duty and death."

Harry sighed and cursed himself. He was getting far too depressive of late. He felt if Susan Bones or Hannah Abbot were here, they'd call him Emo McBroodypants like they sometimes did when he'd get in a mood while teaching the D.A. back in Fifth Year.

Samantha must have picked up at that, "Well no matter the death toll, Harry, you saved a lot of people. It's easy to kill and destroy as you well know. But having the guts to tough it out and do the right thing? Not as easy."

Harry chuffed at that but still smiled, "True enough. I put a lot of people who deserved it into the ground. I guess it's just eating at me I won't get to see most of my friends and family again."

Samantha frowned at that, "What do you mean? Is this a religious thing? Do you feel your afterlife will be in torment?"

Harry laughed but this ended in a bout of coughing which lasted till Jengo gave him a canteen filled with water to drink from. He gave the Skurk the Terkellian hand gesture for thanks he'd picked up from Noss.

Finally, he turned back to Samantha who still wore a very maternal look of concern on her face. At least she never tried to mother him like Molly Weasley always did. He appreciated that. "No, it's not like I think I'm going to hell. It's just the Resurrection Stone works as you saw last month or so. But after I got in a better state of mind after being off that Cube, I tried to call up people I sent off to the Fairy Realm. Even with knowing that that realm is like this sub-space pocket and time is different, everyone I knew would still be dead by now. I couldn't call any of them. So even in death, I'll never see them again."

Samantha was silent for a moment, "Your ability to call up the dead is disturbing but also gives me hope. Even if I die here or die of old age before the Fleet gets back to the Alpha Quadrant, I now have a better hope of seeing my husband again."

Harry nodded, "It helps one get out of bed, doesn't it? My old mentor once said death was just life's next great adventure. Well I'll find out soon enough. I just wish I weren't leaving you all in such a state. It's going to be tough till Voyager can come through."

Samantha got up and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "You don't have to worry about us, Harry. We'll managed. Besides, I think Tom is too stubborn to let us get snuffed out and I can't think of anyone else from the Fleet I'd rather have here than Tuvok. We'll make do."

Harry nodded as he grasped Samantha's hand and gave it a squeeze, "I know. I just sort of wished I could be there. As bad as Tartarus is, well it's something we're all creating together, right? That's something new for me. Never got to play with all those toys most kids get to have. Building things, your imagination your only limitation. I guess in the back of my mind, I felt that I might get to do a bit of that here. Oh well, my life has been a litany of missed choices. Don't see why my death should be any different. Just name something after me…preferably not the latrine though."

Samantha laughed, "What, you don't want Tom to erect the Potter Memorial Pooper House?"

Again, Harry was wracked with coughing from laughing at this.

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UNKNOWN DISTANCE FROM ARRAKEEN, TARTARUS, SECTOR 366, DELTA QUADRANT – 2 MONTHS, 27 DAYS AFTER CRASH

Harry looked down into the darkness. So far, caves weren't something they found around Arrakeen. Even with Harry's blurry vision, it seemed like this was an ancient waterway that led into some underground river or lake.

Harry looked to the sky. It looked like a storm was coming. He had been debating trying to see if perhaps there was signs of water in the cave but it was a steep go for Harry's now old bones. It looked, however, like Tartarus was making up his mind for him.

Typical, he was being pushed into a decision instead of him deciding.

Still, he'd rather die in a fall than have a sand-storm rip him to shreds. Besides, if he did find some hint of water, he could set off his emergency beacon. He might be dead before anyone reached him but at least the others would find the water they so desperately needed with him unable to magically summon more.

With a long-suffering sigh, Harry began to laboriously pick his way down into the gloom after taking out and putting on his head-lamp. It was incredibly slow-going given Harry had to stop and rest being weak as he was. He'd been at it for almost two hours when the inevitable happened and he slipped. However, his 'luck superpower' seemed not to be magic related as he slid down like he was falling into the Chamber of Secrets again.

This slide ended painfully but old as he was, he was still a wizard enough to bounce a bit. As he lay gasping for air and in pain, Harry had a twinge of nostalgia and thought of Neville Longbottom. Harry figured Neville felt being cast into the Fairy Realm to be a good thing as it would give him new plants to discover. He hoped Luna had found similar joy in the animals.

Finally, Harry gingerly got to his feet and looked around his tomb. For he knew there was no way he was getting back up that incline. He was definitely going to die here. Not that it mattered. He'd left Arrakeen knowing he was about to die. As much as he enjoyed the company, at the last, Harry didn't want the pity. Also, isn't that what legends did? Disappear and leave hope that one day, when times were dire, they'd reappear to save the day?

Harry's snort of mirth echoed in the chamber. Harry had enough 'Sword in the Stone' sort of adventure back in his Second Year. He planned on staying dead this time.

He looked around and in the light of the head-lamp, Harry saw the light reflecting back in an odd way. He went over and sure enough, the walls were a hair's breadth away from being damp. The air certainly felt almost muggy compared to the surface. Still, there wasn't much else but a few holes around the edge of the chamber. There were some fit be able to through. Not that he would ever try even if he were healthy. Harry vaguely remembered a show he'd watched once with Dan Granger about caves divers. Harry remembered thinking that even though his days in the cupboard under the stairs made him slightly agoraphobic, watching those divers squeeze through holes to go into unknown chambers when they were already so deep underground had given him the willies. If water ever did flow here, it likely went down those holes. Maybe deep below, water laid there still.

Harry found that almost in the center of the chamber was a flat rock. Harry snorted again. It was just about the right size and height to remind him of Dumbledore's coffin in the mausoleum Voldemort had desecrated. How fitting. Fate seemed to once again be toying with him.

Harry thought about relieving himself but realized he didn't have too even though it had been a long time since he'd done so and he'd drunk a fair bit since then. With a shake of his head, he climbed onto the rock and laid on his back. He'd already forgotten about setting off his emergency beacon in regard to the possibility of nearby water.

Harry felt tired and thought Death would probably come while he slept. He certainly hoped so. Wasting away for a day or more didn't sound appealing.

OoOoO

Harry's eyes snapped open. Without moving, Harry concentrated on the feeling. There! It was faint but also powerful. The lack of light seemed to make it easier to focus on the feeling and resist trying to see something Harry knew one couldn't see with the naked eye.

He lay there for who knows how long. His body felt like a dried-out husk, more dead than alive. Yet his body felt a connection to something…

…something like magic!

As Harry laid there, he began to feel like he was standing over sleeping river. A river of magic. A river he could dive into, drink up and possibly be reborn. A strangled chuckle almost startled him as he had that thought. Hermione had once remarked how similar his life had been to King Arthur. Raised unknowing of his past or his family history. Spirited off by an ancient wizard. Now it seemed, as Death loomed, the Holy Grail appeared. A reprieve from the icy feeling which was creeping closer to his heart.

Why hadn't he felt this magic before? Had he needed to deplete the Earth magic before he could feel the magic of this planet? Did it matter? He could almost taste the magic and the parts of his body he could still feel seemed to hum with anticipation.

Even with no one to see it, Harry shook his head. No. Not this time. All his life, right when things looked lost, some magical thing always appeared. Some way out or just the right tool to escape death to be found or brought, at the last minute, on the claws of a phoenix. It was like he was some plaything to a bored god. Maybe by one of those Q people kept talking about.

This time it was different. The only person to save was himself and he didn't want to do it. Not because he felt he should die or that he deserved to, but that it was time. He was tired. Tired of the killing, tired of the duty. Tired of hearing the cries for help and not being able to ignore them. His whole life seemed to be one encounter after another where he had to react and usually towards two doors but circumstances always had him choosing the same door.

With only his own life on the line, he was finally free to choose the other door. To choose to end the story at last and close the book.

That and there was the feeling he had had since leaving the Borg Cube that Fate still had more in store for him. More adventures Harry had never signed up for. All the more reason to not take up this potential last-minute rescue from death.

He thought of Dumbledore's words regarding Nicholas Flamel and understood why the man had chosen to move on rather than make a new Philosopher's Stone. He too must have felt that too much life was more a curse than a blessing.

For once, Harry was going to reject the path Fate seem to be dangling in front of him. Besides, with the rest of Earth's Magicals safe in the Fairy Realm, he no longer wanted to be the magical equivalent of One of One.

He closed his eyes after realizing they were open (it was completely black in the chamber after all) and adjusted himself to a more comfortable position.

Then, after a minute or so, Harry Potter finally died.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES

Short chapter because I realized it was a good cut-off point…if a bit of a cliff-hanger because the next bit might run long and itself is a self-contained bit. As you can probably guess, the "Gravity" arc is going to run for a few chapters due to the time frame involved.

Retinax V: Raise your hand if you get this bit of Star Trek trivia!

Characters: Given you'll be seeing them for a while, a quick reminder of who is involved.

Tuvok: Obvious

Tom Paris: Obvious

Samantha Wildman: Given the change to the canon timeline, she doesn't die (at least not yet) as she did in canon.

Maria Gilmore: The blonde gal who rebels against Captain Ransom in episodes The Equinox 1 & 2. She, like the other characters from that ship drop off the show even as they remain on board. Formerly an ensign and in canon was held the chief engineer slot in the tiny crew of the Equinox. She is a civilian and romantically involved with Tom and Treana.

Treana: Former Orion slave girl assimilated around 150-200 years ago. Worked as a drone in a field similar to astrometrics. While she works with Seven, she is essentially a civilian doing the job.

Zim: As stated before, there is a back-up copy for emergencies kept in the Flyer. While perhaps not as good as the Doctor in medicine, his range of sub-routines is greater and thus more versatile on away missions. He is essentially the camp's ship's computer given he doesn't have a mobile emitter.

Noss: Alien from the episode Gravity. Again, like so many aliens, we never find out what race she is. Given how the Terkellian were mentioned but never shown, I figured why not make Noss a Terkellian? This also made dealing with the language potentially easier as the crew had some contact with the Terkellian before.

Gazali: Male Skurk and current leader of those Skurks not in cryostasis.

Jenga: Female Skurk botanist and frequent co-worker with Ensign Wildman due to her life-science background.

Others: Obviously, there are 10 other Skurks awake in the camp.