The Empty One

The Empty One

By Wanderer (Wandering Smith)
August2000
Summary: J/C - About losing your life and still having to be strong and go on…
Rating: PG, character death
Disclaimers: As it is thought, so let it be as said… You make the toys; I play with them.
AN: [sigh] Let this be a lesson! If you have a memory like mine: Never ever ever ever forget to write the ending to a story that comes into your head!! No matter how obvious and simple it seems at the time, after you've struggled through writing the story, it will all too often have said bye bye!! Grrrrr, someone better come up with the memory chip soon…
AN2: There is a link after the second section of the story, of a low-qual snip from 'When you come back to me again', by Garth Brooks. if you have the song.. well.. was on my mind as I wrote that.

He sat in the chair.

It should have been large enough, but he obviously didn't belong. He didn't fidget or sit too stiffly; it was something more from within than physical.

As the warp tunnel opened before them, he sat staring forward, but there was nothing in his gaze. No feeling. No soul. Only the pale shadows of memories. And the determination to achieve his goal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had known.

Had woken from a deep sleep with terror coursing through his veins, the sweat standing cold on his flesh, a scream frozen in his throat. The image of a wolf howling in despair over a small dead shape still as real to him as his darkened quarters.

He'd hailed the bridge to increase speed to maximum warp, barely conscious of anything around him as he felt himself shrouded in pain and anguish. Harry must have wondered what was wrong to make the usually calm man sound so desperate.

It was only a dream. A warning maybe! Something he could CHANGE. It had to be!

By the time he reached the bridge, they'd intercepted a message from the Cathlary.

He knew the instant the alien's image appeared on screen. He stopped dead, barely out of the lift. His ears heard the sounds, and somewhere in his mind they were recorded for later consideration. But right then, all he heard was the wolf's howl as his peace was torn from him, raging despair replacing it, burning his eyes with salt and his throat with the need to scream, lash out, destroy the world as it had just destroyed him.

The Cathlar Chancellor continued to speak on the screen, and he knew the bridge crew would soon be turning to him for guidance, but pain blanketed him with a thousand needles, freezing him motionless. They stabbed into his bones as a knife twisted through his chest until he couldn't breathe. A wave of weakness washed over him; as his muscles went slack, his legs began to collapse and the world wavered.

Then he saw her before him. She didn't move, didn't speak; she didn't have to.

She stood there, cloaked in regret. Her hair once again long and in a loose ponytail; his fingers could still remember the softness of it... But she was in uniform and he knew what she wanted, what she demanded. Her eyes would not release him, would not allow him to reach for his lost peace. Even now she was pushing him away, in the name of duty.

Somehow he managed to restrict his outward response to a barely perceptible whimper; but inside, he began to change. The part of him that had learned duty, both from his father and from command training, pulled away from his heart and soul as they fought to go to her, to beg her to stay with him or maybe allow him to follow her wherever she went.

As she faded away and he felt the crew, his crew now, looking at him, he forced his body to walk to his chair. Not the Captain's chair; not now.

Every movement, every breath was agony. But she demanded obedience, and he'd sworn her his a long time ago. So he set himself to the task with a hard swallow and a stiff spine. He ordered a reply sent to the Cathlary homeworld, giving their new ETA and warning that they'd be investigating on arrival. Made sure neither face nor voice betrayed him again, and then turned to face the bridge crew, opening a channel to the rest of the ship.

*Her* crew. Captain Kathryn Janeway. Killed when an aircar exploded in midair, on a planet deep in the Delta Quadrant.

What he said to them was short, blunt and to the point. His voice never cracked and his eyes, though bleak, only twitched twice. He saw the tears streaming down Harry's face, saw the look in Tom's eyes: shock, sorrow; and compassion.

Was aware that they were suffering. But the part of him that could help them, the man they'd depended on as a counsellor and friend, was disappearing deep inside the body that stood before them and continued to breathe. That man was no longer able to help anyone, least of all himself. He had anchored his soul in peace, and now that anchor had been wrenched away, leaving behind a maddened creature to rage at the spirits. Soon it too would go silent. Then this ship would have a new.. the eyes winced as he shied from the word, then steadied himself harshly.. a new Captain.

Clip

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood looking down at her. At the empty shell that had been Kathryn. He didn't see the burns that covered most of her body; the protective casing she lay in had no relevance to the vision he saw, to the thoughts that floated in his mind.

He'd never gotten to hold her for the simple joy of it. Had never kissed her. She'd died alone, as she'd chosen to live. Now HE was left alone, to get their crew home.

As he laid a hand over her heart, he silently gave her his oath that he'd get her children, the people she and that other man had called friends, home. As a Starfleet crew. And make sure they received their proper rewards. As she'd always wanted.

He didn't feel the tears running down his face, didn't hear that doomed soul whimpering, softly but out loud, for what was lost, and what never was. His mind retained only the knowledge he needed to honour his word, all else would be ignored when he became the only master of this body.

The rest of her senior staff stood silently a few feet behind him; Tom and B'Elanna held each other tightly as sobs quietly shook their frames, Harry, Neelix, Tuvok, the Doctor and Seven stood around them, offering and taking what silent support each could. They all had tears in their eyes, and not only for their lost Captain. Except Tuvok, who merely looked paler, the Doctor who looked older, and Seven, who seemed almost shell-shocked; one felt that way when the seemingly invincible toppled off their pedestals.

No one said a word as they watched him leave Sickbay without a backward glance.

He walked to her quarters without seeing anything around him, following a path he knew as well as that to his own, then used the codes that were now his to enter. He locked the door behind him and stood there, unmoving, for an eternity; blind to everything around him. His mind was pulling the last 5 years of his life out of his memory, surrounding the mad being still allowed to exist within him with every look, every sound, every argument, every shared laugh, every moment of joy and every moment of pain. That creature needed them to survive, even as he could not survive *with* them. He stood there, feeling every memory as a physical blow.

She once again stood before him for a moment, seemed to reach for his forehead, then changed the movement to hold out her hand, palm forward. A pledge of her own; she would wait for him.

Then she disappeared and the dam suddenly lifted, even as his hands lashed out futilely, trying to bring her back. The tears coursed down his cheeks as his tortured eyes focused on empty air and his breath came in short, desperate puffs, the pain too deep to even let him scream.

'This was not how it was supposed to *be* Father!! This *could* not be!' his mind wailed. 'She was going to take us home. She promised! And then…' his body shook with the sobs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was logical that Tuvok begin.

"When we heard that the Captain had been killed, I made my way to the bridge.

Kathryn Janeway had been a close friend for many years, and I must admit.. to having a deep sense of loss at the knowledge of her parting.

And I knew that Commander Chakotay also considered the Captain a friend. Although I had every confidence he was capable of leading Voyager, I must admit I was uncertain just how Captain Janeway's death would affect him. In the past, whenever the Captain had been in any danger, the Commander's actions had become.. somewhat reckless; and less focused on the good of this ship and crew.

Nonetheless, when I arrived on the bridge, I found him at his post, seemingly fully composed. Over the next 3 days, as we conducted our own investigation into the mid-air collision that took the Captain's life, along with 5 Cathlar civilians and an ambassador, he never faltered. I would almost say his reactions, or lack thereof, were Vulcan.

Only when the senior officers paid their last respect to Captain Janeway, in Sickbay, did the man finally, and for the last time, show through."

Tuvok was silent for a moment. "Only once before had I seen the Commander allow himself to show such desperation before the crew: after himself and the Captain crashed in the Sacajeawa. When the Doctor and I arrived, the Captain had no pulse and Commander Chakotay was quite clearly terrified that it might be too late to save her."

Tuvok looked up from his memories. Gazed at the people assembled with him. The expressions on their faces all too familiar. And yet, in a way there was relief there also.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Doctor stood next.

"Although I am fully trained in all aspects of medicine, counsellor was not one of my duties on Voyager. Not only because the crew was not comfortable with the thought, but also because I.. did not feel that I understood flesh and blood creatures well enough to be counselling them. Perhaps, had there been no alternative.. but the Commander was both willing and able to fill the position.

Nonetheless, I am aware of the impact of psychological distress on the physiognomy. Therefore, from the moment I was made aware of the.. *situation*, I kept a lock on Commander Chakotay's life signs.

As both doctor and hologram, it is sometimes easy for people to forget my presence, especially when a loved one is in danger." The Doctor smiled sadly. "I had 'also' witnessed the Commander's heightened agitation during any danger to the Captain. And I had watched the Captain while *he* was in danger…" He sighed. "I had hoped, for a time, that she might allow him nearer. He might have been able to get her to take better care of herself, thereby saving *me* from…"

He exhaled slowly, shook himself and went on more briskly. "Suffice it to say, I fully expected the Commander to need my services at some point after the Captain's death.

3 hours after he departed from Sickbay, my readings indicated that he was dangerously close to going into physiological shock. I called Mr. Tuvok, and together we entered the Captain's quarters.

We found Commander Chakotay in a foetal position on the floor. I expected him to be incapable of communication, and so was greatly surprised when he reacted to our appearance by calmly getting up, turning to us and asking our purpose."

The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment and went on softly. "I am a physician. I also consider myself a friend of the Commander. I am not sure which was more.. painful, for me; to see the agony in his eyes when he first rose.." He sighed. "Or the cold emptiness that replaced it within moments.

He acquiesced to my examining him without any argument. Physically, he was no worse than could be expected; not enough sleep, not enough food, high stress. All understandable, considering the situation. His psychological results were rather more worrisome. He seemed to have locked away all emotions; something very rarely beneficial for humans. And yet.."

The Doctor looked at his assembled friends sadly. "I decided that Mr. Tuvok, both as a Vulcan, and Commander Chakotay's First Officer, was better placed to.. 'discuss' the subject with him.

When challenged, the Commander indicated that he was aware of what he was doing. He made it clear that.." The Doctor hesitated. "He made it clear that this was the only way he felt he could continue to function, let along take over his new duties.

I chose to simply keep an eye on him, rather than try to force the issue. Whether this was the right course or not.. I still believe he was quite earnest in his belief that he could not allow his emotions *and* be captain.

And over the ensuing years, he never did break. He dealt with enemies, allies and the crew in an even manner. As Mr. Tuvok mentioned, even the most.. logical, Vulcan would have been hard pressed to find fault with any of his actions."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were a few minutes of silence after he sat down. Everyone thinking of the man who led them. Of the sacrifice he made in remaining with them.

Seven got up.

"It was at a staff meeting, 3 weeks after Captain Janeway's death, that Captain Chakotay ordered Lieutenant Torres and myself to assemble a team to effect research. He wished us to find a way to return Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant as quickly as possible. I reminded him that such research had been going on all along."

Seven paused for a moment, seeming lost in thought. "In my time on Voyager, I had come to respect him as.. a kind man and a good leader.

I must admit, I found his sudden change to be.. unsettling. In many ways I liked this new man. He was far more focused than he had been and did not waste time with.. irrelevant activities. When I first came to Voyager, I would have considered him a perfect leader and would not have questioned his single-minded goal.

However, I had begun to understand that there are advantages to the human habit of.. relaxing, exploring and on occasion.. acting irrelevantly. I had changed enough to question his decision to reassign so many resources away from the scientific curiosity in which the crew found such satisfaction. Although they all wanted to get home, the chances of this extra research yielding results were not such that they could feel it worth turning away from exploration and discovery.

He refused to be swayed from his path. When I challenged him, he… simply stated that I was to follow orders. But the way he gave that order.. even *I* understood that he would not accept any questioning on this. I had once thought that Captain Janeway was somewhat overly focused on her goals.. but now I realized that *she* had only been acting as she saw her duty. The Commander on the other hand.. he lived only to see this crew home, nothing else would be given any true import in his eyes until that was accomplished.

He never allowed our research to be impeded in any way by events that came up, whether attacks on Voyager or contact with new species… Any new technology or theory or idea was immediately added to the list of things to try to combine into a working plan to return Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant.

I know that without his steadfast determination, we would not be here today."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seven abruptly sat down again. In the ensuing silence, Neelix slowly rose.

"Well. I.. ahh, suppose I should go next.

As the Doctor said, Commander Chakotay had always been the person we turned to when we were in need of spiritual guidance. I was no exception. After my… death.. especially, I'm afraid I was rather confused about many things. The Commander was able to help me through that.

So, when I found him standing in the Mess hall one night, staring out at the stars with all lights off… I thought I would try to help him.. listen at least, to anything he cared to say.

After I interrupted, as diffidently as I could, he said, in his lifeless voice, "One year. But we're getting there Neelix."

You know, I think that's what took me the longest to get used to in this new man: his voice. He had always spoken very quietly, but it used to be the quiet of a man who knew his centre, and was at peace with it.

Unlike most of us, he always seemed able to keep himself, at least outwardly, under control…" Neelix grinned briefly, "Except, of course, where the captain was concerned. I always knew when they were in the middle of an argument. He would show up, and his voice would be tight with tension as he'd ask me to make sure the very captain he was angry at, ate something that evening. Then later she would come stalking in and demand a pot of my coffee substitute, having run out of replicator rations already.

And although I have never shirked my duties as moral officer… Well, I must say I did *not* look forward to my duties on those days; better to anger a wild Rikaht than to face a Captain with a bone to pick and try to get her to eat…"

He shook himself as the smile quickly left him. "In any case, now, it was no longer control that kept him even-tempered.. it seemed more as though there *were* no emotions to control. And yet, those words almost brought to mind, *almost*, his old self…

I responded to his statement with a sigh. Unsure if I should do so, I started to tell him of the visits the Captain had paid me after Kes's transformation. Of the hope she gave me, and the shadows that would shimmer in her eyes when she spoke of our friend. Shadows of all the friends she had lost at one time or another. And the determination.. the determination that she would get us home, that the sacrifices would all be worth it...

As I spoke, he closed his eyes, tilted his head back. I could see his jaw clench at the Captain's name. But he didn't ask me to stop. When I finished, he returned his gaze to the stars, and we stood silent for a time.

Then he turned to me. As usual, the only thing in his eyes was emptiness. I understood where it came from, remembered the shattering pain and anger that had changed me after the destruction of Rinax. But the Commander could not allow himself to grieve as I had; he had taken up a duty. Knowing that it might last for years. And I knew he would be more alone for that time than ever the Captain had been; he'd always made sure she had at least one person standing by her...

"They'll get home Neelix. There I *will not* fail. Soon…" His eyes no longer focused on me. And then he walked away."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom squeezed his wife's hand quickly before rising from his seat.

"It's strange. After all the years that we'd been out here, all the troubles we'd survived. Chakotay and I still hadn't completely made up our differences. We'd learned to respect each other, to a point, but we till didn't see eye to eye very often.

In a way, I actually understood him better after the Captain died. I knew how I'd feel if B'Elanna died, had had enough brushes with it. And to see that same desolation in his eyes, even if for only those few, brief, moments when the past ambushed his guard… Well, it forced me to re-evaluate the last 5 years. We all knew he cared for her of course. But this.. this was soul-deep and unshakable; not even by death.

And to know he'd carried it all those years.. I knew then that I wasn't the only one who'd had brushes with utter loss, and I realized that I'd probably made them worst more than once.

So when he became a worse slave driver than the Captain at *her* worst.. well, any time I felt like complaining, I remembered that even if he seemed cold right now, the pain really was there, driving him as surely as guilt had driven the Captain."

Tom signed sadly. "Anyway, more than 2 years had gone by since the Captain's death. Voyager had changed a lot in that time. There'd been modifications done in several areas, especially engineering, the bridge and along the hull. Each one the result of new technology, a lot of it used to try to get home.

Now we were testing another new idea from the Torres/Seven group. A new engine, loosely based on Borg trans-warp technology and complimented with new shields and a whole slew of adjustments courtesy of dozens of encounters over the years…

But this wasn't the first we'd tried, there had been a lot of 'new' theories tested; and they'd all failed. And I guess we'd reached the point where we just went through the moves; hoping for the best, yes, but not really expecting success anymore…

Anyhow, after all the requisite checks and counter-checks had been done, and B'Elanna gave Engineering's OK, and Harry gave the bridge's OK, there was that moment of stillness when everybody braces themselves. And then the Com.. Captain, said "Engage."

After I punched in the right commands, and the warp tunnel opened and took us in, I looked up. Surprising how well you can see reflections, even on these 24th century screens… The Commander was just sitting there, looking for all the world as though this were just another flight through the DQ.

But slowly, as the minutes passed and nothing wrong happened, people started to perk up. Long buried hopes started to show again. And when I looked up again, for half an instant, I thought I saw the Commander's eyes change, saw pain emerge, and hope try to show itself."

Tom stood silent, remembering that day and all it brought. Then his eyes came back to his friends. "Famine or flood. It was a saying in the 20th century. Seems strangely appropriate. For more than 7 years we tried to get home and only stared death in the face for our trouble. And then.. we finally manage to get through. With not a single problem coming up."

Tom shook his head slowly as he sat back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The warp tunnel dropped us just outside quadrant 0." Harry shook his head in remembered disbelief. "Feast or famine is right. Anyway, the Commander called for full stop, and before anyone could even start on the congratulations, Starfleet was hailing us.

It's funny how you can spend so much time trying desperately to get somewhere, and then when you get there, you start wondering if it was the right thing…

Even as I called out the hail, I suddenly remembered that our Captain.."Harry snorted softly, distracted for an instant, then shook his head. "It's still strange to think of him as Captain. For so long the word was such an integral part of Kathryn Janeway. And after she.. died, well, we all knew instinctively that the Commander made that same association, so I guess we wanted to spare him some pain, and we just kept calling him Commander. He never corrected us. There were a few times, when there were aliens within hearing that I had to remind myself to call him Captain. And I wasn't the only one. We always respected him as such, of course. Its just that the word..." He shook his head and went on, "Anyway, he, our pilot *and* our Chief Engineer were all wanted here, and I wondered if Starfleet might well not be willing to just let the past be.

I listened as the Commander explained all that had happened. For a second there, I could have sworn there were feelings in that voice; I almost heard anguish as he spoke the Captain's name.

I wondered what the Admiral thought of the man who led us. *We* knew why he was so cold.. but the Admiral didn't…

But Starfleet seemed to take it all in stride. No request to put all the former Maquis in chains. Only an 'offer' of an escort back to Earth.

As he gave the order to sign off, the Commander turned briefly towards me. I guess if I'd though about it at all, I expected him to be happy… or something close to it, at being home. I mean, he'd just spent 2 years riding over every obstacle that came our way with single-minded fixation. Pushing everyone on board to their limits, himself first…

And yet.. all I could see in his eyes was a faint impatience.. maybe confusion."

Harry closed his eyes and bowed his head for a bit. When he looked up, he tried to smile. "I remember when we got the news you know. I'm not sure how, but he knew even before the Cathlary contacted us. We were going back to their homeworld after having delivered colonists and supplies to an outlying planet in their system. The trilithium they could supply was worth acting as transport for a people whose propulsion systems were far behind the Federation. Was even worth leaving our Captain to bicker with their Chancellor…"

Harry closed his eyes again. "The Captain had told us to take our time coming back since most of the crew stayed with her for some well-deserved R&R. But all of a sudden, barely halfway there, the Commander hailed me mid-shift. I almost didn't recognize him; he sounded terrified. After 4 months without any trouble coming our way for once, it was an unpleasant jolt. I almost asked him what was wrong… But I guess his panic had passed itself on, because I suddenly didn't want to know…

He was standing right next to me as we listened to the Chancellor's communiqué. Thanks to the warning of his earlier panic, I recovered from the shock faster than most, and I looked at him.." Harry shuddered, "I have no idea how he held himself together. The wild pain I saw in his eyes.. if we hadn't been there, depending on him… But we were. And he got us back"

Harry looked at his assembled friends. "We were home, but there was no joy in him. This was just another part of the duty."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Home.

It had begun. Five minutes into the wormhole, when Harry still hadn't had anything bad to report, he, like everyone else, had realized that this was the time that it would work. They were on their way back. And he'd felt (!!) it begin. The memories, the feelings, the thoughts, which had been buried for so long. Buried so deep he'd barely been aware of them, even on the brink of sleep. And now they were beginning to rise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood outside Starfleet Headquarters. He felt the late afternoon sunshine on his face, heard the sound of birds from the nearby trees, smelled the ocean in the distance and flowers nearby. Somewhere inside him, those sensations were even enjoyed…

His crew was safe. The former Maquis were all pardoned and offered posts in Starfleet. Both of the Starfleet crews had been given their dues, and all commissions had finally been honoured.

His word was redeemed. Even the Doctor and Seven were safe. The one under the protection of Commander Data and the other of Admiral Picard, who seemed to feel a connection to the former drone.

They'd just attended the ceremony Starfleet put together to honour all those that died during their years in the Delta Quadrant. Every single crew-member that was lost was named, from all 3 crews, even Kes. His or her rank confirmed and their memory honoured before their fellow officers and families.

Including hers.

Once back in his assigned quarters, he closed his eyes and let his shoulders slowly hunch over, then he lifted his head and took a deep breath. He walked to the cases he'd never unpacked. Pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle and stood looking at it for long minutes, letting his hands remember the weight and feel after so long. Then he walked to the comm unit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry sat down, B'Elanna took a deep breath and slowly stood up, keeping her hand on Tom's shoulder for emotional support.

"We'd only been back for a couple weeks. Funny how your life can change so quickly. It was the same when we landed in the Delta Quadrant. Of course, I guess for a lot of the crew this was entirely different; after all, this is where they wanted to be.

But for me, and for a lot of the former Maquis, this was a strange place. One where we didn't really belong. I would have expected Chakotay… well, the old Chakotay anyway, to feel the same. And it worried me that he seemed so.. distant. It wasn't like after the Captain's death. Then, he'd just been cold, empty. But now… now you could almost see emotions on him, but they, and he, were far away, and getting further...

The sadness I could understand; he'd never allowed himself to grieve, it made sense that that pain would show itself now. The look of a man who's not sure where he is, or where he's going: well, I could relate to that perfectly. Its just that in him, all of it was removed from the present.. there was a layer of vagueness between them and the world; almost.. almost like he was waiting for something…

That night, I couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. I figured it was just from the funerals Starfleet had put up for the lost. But that didn't make me feel any better. I woke up, startled, sometime after midnight. I sat there in bed, trying not to wake Tom, feeling tears in my eyes. I got up quietly and went to the comm in the next room. There was a message light on. I didn't want to look.

Damn it! We were supposed to be home, back in the Alpha Quadrant after *7* years!! Things were supposed to get better now. We could get on with out lives. Learn to be civilians again. Not worry about death at every turn…

I should have known better of course. Life's never that way; there's always something else waiting for you around the corner. Always someone trying to steal away what happiness you've found.

When I felt Tom's hands settle on my shoulders I turned my head to look at him. I wasn't the only one who was expecting more pain. Even as I covered one of his hands with mine, I reached for the comm's Play pad.

B'Elanna, I've completed my last orders. Everyone's back, and free and clear. *I*'m.. free.

I'm sorry B'Ela, I wish I could stay and watch over everyone. I would have loved to see yours and Tom's child. But I made my choice; and I chose her, it's not something I would ever change. And now.. its catching up to me B'Ela; and I don't have the duty to keep me going anymore.

His eyes were getting further and further away and she saw him wince as a hand reached for his chest for an instant. This was more conversation than anyone had heard from him in a long time. If only...

My people have a legend for almost every occasion B'Ela. But I can't seem to get the enthusiasm for telling one without her here with me… I'm sorry I had to be this way. It was all I could do to keep breathing when..

He closed his eyes as his jaw tightened and the muscles around his eyes flinched. When he finally spoke, it was in an agonized whisper.

I couldn't take it B'Ela. Couldn't even dredge up enough anger to go on the way I did in the Maquis. Maybe if there had been someone to blame.. but there wasn't!

When he opened his eyes, B'Elanna almost wished the emptiness had stayed, this was far worse.

Be well, little sister. Don't worry about me, I'll be exactly where I want to be, and we'll watch over you, all of you.

Tom. Take good care of her, and I wish you all the best.

It has been an honour to serve with you. Know that we are both very proud of all of you. We not only survived incredible odds, but we grew through them, into better people and a stronger family. Be well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sat on the floor and slowly spread out all the objects that had once held so much meaning.

He closed his eyes and forced his mind to relax, to shed the guards that had protected him from the past. Slowly went searching through himself for that something that had always been there, and which had been seeping out into his consciousness since they reached home…

He tensed suddenly as he felt the first tendrils snake to the surface. The voice was very faint, weak and disoriented, but it was there.

He opened his eyes, looked at the relics of his former life. Even as the pain he'd stored away, what seemed like a lifetime ago, began to invade his bones and muscles, he unfolded his legs and pushed himself up, taking the Akoona with him. Once standing, he took a deep breath, trying to get past the stabbing pain invading his chest, to see past the memories flashing before him.

He forced himself to move, returned to his cases and changed out of his uniform, fingers briefly caressing the cotton of his old beige shirt and pants. Then he tottered to the bed, hands clenched on his chest, legs weakening. The voice wasn't frail anymore, it was screaming with a very different pain than that in his chest, bringing back all the memories, the hopes and wishes he'd lost.

Lying on his back in the soft bed with the Akoona clenched in one hand, his lips shaping words in an old language, that exiled voice took more and more control, and in so doing, began to think again. As he became unable to get past the knives in his chest to breathe, he saw her again. She stood beside him, wearing the orange dress she'd favoured on New Earth. And she smiled. Soft and loving, her hands reaching to smooth the ink on his forehead.

"Kathryn." He was surprised he could find air to speak. But maybe he didn't. Chakotay felt whole again, the wall that had kept him locked in his memories was gone, but so was the crushing despair. He felt her touch, felt the love she exuded; the smile on his own lips, as unfamiliar now as the joy lifting his heart. He reached out, buried his fingers in the auburn fire hanging loose around her shoulders. For an infinitesimal moment, he wondered how it was he could breathe and move so easily. He looked down at his chest… only to see his arms still clutching it.

Then he heard a breeze stirring leaves, and when he looked up, there was the faintest hint of a forest and a shelter he remembered building, so long ago it seemed.

He knew then that he'd moved on to the land of his ancestors, that his spirit no longer clung to the hull that spoke to and commanded his crew for the last few years. And Kathryn finally stood beside him, pulling his hand into hers and smiling reassurance. Chakotay looked back one last time at the body laying on the bed, the Akoona released from its grip and tumbled to the floor. And he said goodbye to the soulless shell that had fulfilled his duty while he hid away with his loneliness. He said a last prayer for their friends, then turned back to the woman warrior he'd chosen for his own. And who now claimed him as hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We didn't bother to call Starfleet right then, only Tuvok and the Doctor. When we all met at the door to the Commander's quarters, Tuvok was able to get us in.

The first thing I saw was the contents of his medicine bundle, spread out carefully on the floor. The I looked beyond, to the bed; already knowing what we'd find.

He'd lost a lot of weight since the accident and the gauntness of his cheeks looked worse with the unnatural paleness of his skin. But the smile he wore was still recognizable as that of my old friend. That happy smile we'd only seen, and then rarely, during those first few years.

The Doctor hurried to his side, running his tricorder over Chakotay's motionless body. I knew he wouldn't find anything. He'd moved on already. Whatever part of him had survived inside our new Captain, he had finally been allowed to shed duty and find joy.

Tuvok moved to the comm console and reported that the room sensors were set to detect brain activity in the room, and auto-send the message if it stopped.

Within a few minutes, Doc turned off the tricorder and turned to us. 'His heart stopped. I don't detect any signs of foul play. No poison or injuries; only the accumulated stress of the last few years.' Then he bent down to get the Akoona and gently placed it over Chakotay's heart and we all came over and wished him well, in our own way..."

B'Elanna turned away from her friends and the Admirals that were in attendance, looked towards the river they'd gathered next to.

As she lifted the old urn with the feather design on its side, she gazed up at the sky and smiled sadly. "May you find your way to Sto'Vo'Kor, old man… There to teach all those old stubborn Klingon warriors the ways of the Tree People of old…" She could almost hear Chakotay laughing somewhere near, and her heart lightened.

She grinned wickedly, "That should keep you and the Captain busy until I get there and take you in hand!"

As the breeze took the last words from her mouth, she swung the urn and the ashes within flew away into the sky...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He slowly, unhurriedly, reached for her, knowing they had all the time in the universe, but needing to finally, truly, touch her. He laid his hands along her neck, and slowly traced his fingers over her skin, soft and warm. Letting himself drown in the love shinning freely in her eyes. As her hands skimmed his forehead again and then slipped into his hair, he wanted nothing more than to stand there and enjoy her every touch.

He leaned over and kissed her. Gently, just barely brushing her lips with his, letting the reality of their being together seep in and heal the past away. Then he rested his forehead to hers and breathed deeply of the light scent she wore, vanilla and a gentle musk, filling his mind with her nearness. "Chakotay…", she signed happily, "*My* warrior."

He was complete.

And he had no intention of wasting time in Sto'Vo'Kor when he could be joining his lady in a warm bathtub!! Or better yet…

END

Back to Fanfic
Back to The Canadian Wanderer's homepage