The
emergency briefing meeting had gone better than expected for Kathryn Janeway.
While the senior officers had all been aware to a certain degree of Chakotay's
condition and the latest development, the rest of the ship's crew still had to
be informed. In the briefing room they had all been quiet while they listened
to the Doctor outlining the nature of Chakotay's amnesia.
"The
condition is indefinite," the EMH stated, "there's no knowing whether
it will be corrected tomorrow, or in a year's time."
"Never, perhaps?" Seven of Nine asked
bluntly.
"That
is possible, Seven, but we must remain optimistic that it can be
reversed," he answered quickly.
"It
means then that Commander Chakotay believes for example, Mr Paris still to be
in a correctional facility," Tuvok said.
"You
know, Tuvok, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were teasing..." Tom
said, then he winced as B'Elanna kicked him on the
shin.
"It
means that he still bears you ill, Mr Paris."
"I've
already been at the receiving end of it, Tuvok."
Tom looked
unhappy as he spoke, the prospect of dealing with a First Officer who
remembered only that he was a mercenary and not a changed man, very daunting.
"You
must understand, Tuvok," Captain Janeway added quietly, "that your
position is tenuous as well. You were on his vessel under cover - "
"There,
see?"
"I...see,"
Tuvok replied, looking as impassive as ever.
"Doctor,
when do you think Commander Chakotay will be mobile?"
"Captain,
now that he's regained consciousness, he'll be in sick bay at least a week
before I'll actually allow him to wander about the ship unattended," the
doctor replied.
"What
you mean, Doc, you don't want Commander Chakotay to learn things too suddenly,
that could be a greater shock for him that we might anticipate." Tom
folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair.
"That
is correct. You must understand that Commander Chakotay will not recognise any
of the Starfleet crew, and will be asking questions about the Maquis aboard his
own ship - "
"Doctor
and I have decided that we'll break it gradually to him in the week that he'll
still be in sick bay. He'll be studying the ship's logs, and other vital crew
information," Kathryn said as she looked at Tom.
"The
Commander has already been informed that he is the First Officer of this vessel
- "
"Captain? How did he take to that?" Neelix asked.
Kathryn
Janeway sighed. She threaded her fingers in a gesture Tom thought was nervous.
"He...insisted
he's Maquis. He is disoriented, Tom. It..."
"Captain,
we'll help all we can,"
Tom offered, sensing how difficult it had to be for her.
"Thank
you, Tom. I appreciate that you want to help. It's just..." she paused for
several minutes while the rest of the senior officers waited for her to speak.
"I don't know how I am going to tell him about the personal aspects of his
life..."
"Captain,
it is perhaps the most humane thing to tell him immediately. He will want to
know once he's studied all the logs," Tuvok said.
"Yes...yes,
I know that. In the meantime, I am delaying as far as I possibly can until it
cannot be avoided. Hopefully by that time it won't come as so much of a shock
to him..."
"Then
I guess, he's yours, Captain," Tom said in an attempt at levity. Kathryn
Janeway smiled and closed her eyes briefly.
"That
will be all. Dismissed," she said softly.
She
remained in her seat for several minutes after they left. Her thoughts went to Chakotay. She had stayed
with him until he slept soundly, and then allowed herself to touch him, caress
his cheek, his forehead, and for a few minutes just held his hand.
It was so
strange. In his sleep his fingers had curled around hers and for a moment she
wanted to believe that he was fine, that his memory was restored. Somewhere in
his subconscious he must recognise her touch, even her scent. It was a hope,
albeit a vain one, but she wanted to cling to that. She wondered how he would
take the news that he was married, how his reaction would be when he saw
She gave a
sigh. Sometime, she'd have to tell him. He had to know, even if he didn't
remember. What he wasn't going to learn from the ship's database and some
inadvertent uttering from the crew, he will find out, through her, through the doctor.
"Captain,
he'll have to be assigned quarters," the EMH said before she left sickbay.
She had already thought of that and knew that until he was ready, he'd have to
be somewhere else, on the same deck, maybe, but not immediately in their own quarters. She had to have the strength to ward off
a thousand more question about why two quarters had been converted into a
larger living arrangement for a Captain and First Officer. On the other hand,
it might just be better if Chakotay knew immediately where their quarters
were... The vacant cabin next to his was perhaps just a temporary measure.
"I
understand, Doctor. The quarters next to his own had
always been vacant. He'll be there until I - "
She had not
wanted to pursue that conversation further and the EMH had nodded, his eyes
looking for once sympathetic. She sighed as she rose from her seat and entered
the bridge. She sat down in the command chair, her eyes going instinctively to
the empty chair beside her.
***
He knew the
moment he woke and saw the doctor scurrying around that it was probably
morning. His moved his hands, saw that he could lift
them. When he raised them to touch his temple, a sudden wave of pain hit him
and he cried out. He dropped his hand again to its former position. The EMH
didn't seem to notice he was awake.
Chakotay
had a raging thirst and for a split second he felt something like a hand,
gentle and soft, touching his mouth and dabbing a sponge there.
"Water..."
he croaked as he tried to lift himself.
"Good
morning, Commander," the doctor said. The EMH had moved to the biobed and
now hovered over Chakotay.
"Doctor...?"
"I am
an emergency medical hologram," the EMH offered. "I don't have a
name."
"I...see."
The EMH
moved away as he spoke and when he turned to face Chakotay again, he had small
glass of water. Here..." the EMH said as he lifted Chakotay's head
slightly and allowed him to drink from the glass. When he was finished, he lay
back against the headrest. His face still had the sallow, sickly look and while
most of his burnt skin had been regenerated, there was still some tingling of
pain, as if his nerve endings remembered what he couldn't.
"Tell
me...about...the Captain," Chakotay asked as he lay
back, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead from the exertion of
lifting himself.
"She
will be here shortly, Commander..."
He had
difficulty understanding being called Commander. His last recollection was of
being under attack by a Cardassian vessel with Gul Evek commanding that vessel,
and the next moment he found himself on Voyager. He believed he was a fugitive,
a hardened freedom fighter and Maquis cell leader. Now he was on Voyager and he
had been on this vessel for more than six years. Seeing the stardate listed on
the tricorder last night, had given him a shock. He was confused, disoriented
and utterly at the mercy of a woman he didn't know. One moment he was thrown
against the bulkhead of his vessel and the next moment he was on Voyager, a
little more than six years later. All the events he experienced, every act and
action that had an impact on either Kathryn, or members of the crew, all work
he had done on this vessel, a mystery to him, as if it never happened. It was a
gaping chasm that appeared impossible to bridge, and Kathryn may be the only with
a key to unlocking the mystery. She had looked at him with expectation in her
eyes, as if she expected him to recognise her.
He sighed.
He was supposed to know her. If he had been her First Officer for so long, he
had to know her well, perhaps more than well. He couldn't recall that she had
given him an answer last night when he asked if they were friends. He had been
friends with his Captain on his previous Federation vessel before his
resignation, so it was reasonable to assume that he and Captain Janeway could
be close friends on Voyager if they had been in this quadrant for more than six
years.
She was
beautiful. Petit and beautiful. Last night, even
through his pain, he could see that her eyes looked sad. Was the sadness for
him?
Chakotay
tried to lift himself again and groaned when the pain forced him down. He
turned his head, saw that there were no other patients
in sick bay. Did they vanish for his benefit? He must be on a very modern
vessel, he thought. Very modern. Mostly greys and blues, steel and chrome... Even the doctor was a figment,
collection of photon particles, doctor with no name...
He closed
his eyes and must have dozed off. When he opened his eyes, she was sitting
there. His hand was held in hers. She didn't speak, just kept stroking the back
of his hand.
"You
are sad...Captain..."
He heard
her give a sigh, and he amended his address: "Kathryn..."
"You
have been very badly injured, Chakotay," she said softly.
"Is
that why you are sad?" he asked.
She was
quiet so long that he wondered if she heard him, or whether she wanted to reply
to him.
"Are
we friends, Kathryn?" he repeated his question of the previous night.
"Yes.
Yes...we are."
"You
are crying, Kathryn. Please...don't cry..." He hardly knew how he could
have this desire to wipe her tears and tell her not to cry. He didn't want her
to be sad. How was it possible that he could feel like this?
"I'm
sorry, Chakotay. It's just that I'm glad to see you're looking better."
"But I
don't remember you, Kathryn. I know I'm supposed to and I know now that we must
have shared something close. How can that be better than not knowing of a part
of my life that is important to me?"
"We
thought you wouldn't make it. The first two days, it was...very bad..."
"Kathryn...I
want to remember you. There must have been things...there are things...I had
this dream, that someone held my hand and spoke to me in soft tones..."
She had
been there rund the clock the first forty eight hours. Members of the crew
rotated taking care of a fractious baby who missed her father. Kathryn wanted
to set him at ease.
"We're
friends, remember?"
"Then
you will help me put together the pieces of the puzzle?"
Kathryn
nodded.
"Tell
me..."
"Chakotay,"
she said on a sigh, "as soon as you are able to walk about, you have
access to the ship's logs and database - "
"And between the lines, Kathryn Janeway? What will I read between the
lines?"
"I
hope you'll not be too shocked, Chakotay."
"Or
surprised, Kathryn?"
She nodded
and gave him a watery smile. When he smiled back, Kathryn's eyes closed.
"What
is it, Kathryn?"
Her eyes
had a wistful look in them.
"I
missed you, Chakotay..."
Her hand
covered his. It was warm; he felt comforted, as if her hand belonged there.
"Help
me..."
"You
must rest. We need you to get strong again."
"You
will help me?"
"Yes..."
***
When next
Chakotay woke up, another day had passed. He felt stronger,
the burning pain in his chest had subsided. The doctor had been all over him,
but declared finally:
"The
rest is up to you, Commander."
Chakotay
had fallen asleep again and every time he opened his eyes, Kathryn was there.
He was beginning to look forward to seeing Kathryn every morning and in the
evenings especially, she stayed until his eyes became so heavy with sleep he
couldn't keep them open anymore. He didn't question yet that she appeared
tired, with dark circles under her eyes, or that sometimes she looked harried
as the sick bay doors opened and she walked briskly over to his bed.
She filled
him in on his injuries, the accident. He became very quiet when she told him
that one crewmember had died.
"Kathryn,
I - " He
found it difficult to express his grief, because he couldn't remember the
accident, nor did he know Ensign Sayenne.
"Don't...don't
be distressed...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - "
"No,
it's alright. Tell me about how we met then, will you?"
Kathryn smiled, her eyes became warm, soft at the memory.
"How
do you know my name?"
"What?"
"That's
what you said the first time I addressed you - "
"M-More
than six years ago..."
"Yes..."
Her voice was a whisper.
"I
said that the first time I woke up," he said reflectively. "Déjà vu?"
Kathryn
nodded. Then she told him about the Caretaker, the tetryon beam that whisked
them into the Delta Quadrant, how he sacrificed his vessel to destroy the Kazon
ship that threatened the Ocampa. "We became involved..." she had said
then of her decision to destroy the array. "We
are about 30 years away from home..."
"The
Maquis?" he asked.
She told
him about them, that the two crews joined to become a Starfleet crew, that they had heard news from home, about the War, how
many Maquis were now in Federation jails.
"I had
an engineer, Kathryn. B'Elanna Torres. What has
happened to her?"
Kathryn
only smiled, a gentle smile.
"What..."
"She
is Voyager's Chief Engineer. She married Tom Paris."
"The mercenary?"
"He
saved your life."
Chakotay
became reflective. He had never liked Tom Paris. Perhaps the thought needed
qualification. Tom Paris had been young, angry. He remembered the first day Tom
joined his cell and how Chakotay had wanted to beat him up, because Tom wanted
to be rewarded for his services. He couldn't refuse the brilliant pilot
then.The Maquis needed good pilots and Tom...Chakotay sighed. Tom was the best.
He was not Maquis because of any noble sentiments, but his agenda had been that
of others who used the Maquis as a safe harbour. A place to hide... Still, Tom
Paris got caught. Chakotay had been filled with relief and apprehension at the
same time. Now, it seemed, Tom was the pilot who led Voyager into the
"Did I
change, Kathryn?"
She sighed.
"I suppose," she said, "that we became focused on getting the
crew home, and more than anything, we were forced to work together and to stay
together - "
"We
couldn't afford to be divided..." he said intuitively.
"Yes..."
He had
become tired soon after that, although he had not wanted her to let go of his
hand.
One evening
she didn't come.
Chakotay
became agitated. He had a raging headache, but he held on to the side of the
bed and lifted himself to a sitting position. He became dizzy, the sick bay
swirled like a mad vortex and he felt himself pitching forward.
"What
do you think you're doing, Commander?" the doctor asked as he moved
swiftly to the biobed and pressed Chakotay down again. Chakotay lifted his head
this time.
"The
Captain," he gasped, "where is she?"
"Has
it occurred to you that she might be in a meeting?" The doctor's voice was
terse. "Or, just plain tired?"
Chakotay
sagged back against the headrest. He felt like a fool, foolish, useless.
He grabbed
the doctor's wrist and pulled him closer. "I must see her," he
insisted.
"Tomorrow morning, Commander. She'll be here. Now lie still, will you?"
At that
moment the doors of the sick bay opened and Kathryn Janeway hurried towards
them. She was slightly out of breath when she reached him. She had that harried
look again and she quickly smoothed her hair behind her ears.
"What's
the matter, Doctor?" she asked, instantly worried that Chakotay might have
had a relapse.
"Kathryn!"
"Captain,
now is about the time the Commander may be allowed up, I think. It's becoming
impossible to hold him down - "
"Chakotay,
I'm sorry. I was...held up." The doctor gave a snort, then
continued with his work.
"Kathryn...forgive me. I got used to expecting you. You were busy. I'll
be okay." She lifted him gently to a sitting position, ensuring that he
didn't get dizzy again. He grimaced. "Thank you."
"Chakotay..." There was a look in her eyes that alarmed him
a little.
"Is
something the matter, Kathryn?"
"Uh...tomorrow,
you'll be able to get up and study the database. There - there are some things
you ought...to know..."
"I'm
your first officer and we are friends. I know that."
"Yes,
er...well..." Why was she stalling?
"It's okay, Kathryn. If it's difficult for you, you don't
have to say anything..." He touched
her cheek, finding the action so natural that he frowned. He held his palm
there, allowing her warmth to flow into him. He saw her eyes close, saw how a
tear seeped out and rolled down her cheek, coursing hotly over his
fingers.
"Kathryn?"
Her hand
covered his own, as if she were loathe to let him go.
She opened her eyes and he saw the deep sadness in them, and a longing that
confused him. He frowned again.
"Speak
to me, please, Kathryn."
She pressed
her lips against his palm.
"Please..."
"I was
going to wait till I thought you were ready, you know..." she started,
"but..."
"...but
what, Kathryn? Something that might shock me? Surprise
me?" he asked. She nodded.
"We -
we are more than friends, Chakotay..."
"I
feel close to you. Maybe that part of my subconscious -
"
"We
are married, Chakotay," she cut in.
"Kathryn?"
His eyes widened. He was quiet for several long minutes. A slow smile spread
across his face, but before he could say anything, she added:
"And
we - we have a daughter...a baby girl... She - she's only eight months
old..."
She dropped
his hand and turned away from him. The doctor looked up from his work,
momentarily distracted before he continued again. Chakotay held on to Kathryn's
wrist and pulled her gently towards him.
"I am
m-married...to you, and - and we have a daughter?" Chakotay stammered.
She nodded.
He tried to
digest the information; he tried to remember a marriage ceremony and making
love with this woman. He tried to remember Kathryn being pregnant; he tried to
remember Kathryn giving birth to a baby girl. He forced his brain to comply. He
told himself to think, to think hard, perhaps something of what he had
experienced with this woman who was his friend, remained - a tiny sliver or
aperture into his brain where six years of memories lay in the wasteland of his
life.
Nothing
happened.
Chakotay
tried again. Blank. There was a mist, a hazy field of greys and off-whites and
black - not a year or a day or a month, one single bit of information or a
vision that there was something he could claim with Kathryn Janeway.
There was
nothing. Yet, there was a friendship, love, a marriage, a baby. If he had those
things with Kathryn Janeway, then nothing else should matter but that they were
the most important things in his life. A milestone of such great magnificence
that remained a blank, not even a haze. His hand reached out and he tried to
touch her face. Perhaps if he did so, there might be a remembrance of a touch, a tactile evidence that broke through the mists and hazy
fields to claim him again as the husband, lover of this woman who was to him a
stranger...
He looked
at her and tried to remember. His hand slumped lifeless to his side again. The
woman's face receded, drifted further and further away. He wanted to call her
back.
In the
mists he heard her call his name. Then mercifully, everything went black.
****