VOY FIC :: "Legacy" [Kathryn Janeway, PG]
Title: Legacy
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG
Focus: Kathryn Janeway
Date: 13-15 October 2010
Word Count: 1306
Written for:
femme_fic 2010
Recipient: atraphoenix
Prompt: Legacy
Summary: There's something about the legacy inherent in the name of a strong person to be admired.
Spoilers: Post-series, though there are spoilers for episode 05x01, "Night".
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Not From Around Here
Link to: http://sff.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions,
femme_fic, & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Feedback: Concrit always welcome.
Disclaimer: "Star Trek: Voyager," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Paramount Pictures, CBS Television, and several other people or companies over the years. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Star Trek: Voyager," Paramount Pictures, or any representatives of the actors.
Author's Notes: There was another story I really wanted to try for this prompt, but I knew it wouldn't work right. It was a similar situation, but involved a long lost lover of Kathryn's, and I didn't think I would be able to adequately and properly introduce the lover in the context of the story. Plus? The prompt was about Kathryn, not Kathryn and a heretofore unknown lover of hers. That story will come somewhere down the line.
I want to do a major shout out to Watch Trek.com for having all of the Voyager episodes available, so I could re-watch Night for clarification. You can bet that site will be used in the future for any episodes I need to rewatch. Any family and background info I'd forgotten and needed on Kathryn Janeway came from Memory Alpha.
Additional inspiration on this story came from the song, I'm Your Captain (Closer to Home) by Grand Funk Railroad. The lyrics were more important when I was going to focus on "Night", but I listened to the song on repeat for the bulk of the time that I was writing this story, so they still work as an influence/inspiration.
Dedication: To my Kathryn Janeway muse, for being really damned patient all these years before I could write about her again…
Beta:
ct
"Legacy"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 52081.2
What is it about the darkness of night that brings all of one's flaws to the forefront? We entered this desolate, dark region of space weeks ago, and it's definitely taking its toll on all of us. I believe Chakotay said the crew's taken to calling it The Void.
The holodecks are certainly getting a workout. The ship can practically guide itself. It's not like we have any stars to steer by. Nothing but vast swathes of seamless black engulfing us. The last estimates I heard put us at two years of living through this little slice of hell. Well, maybe not so little.
I've noticed tempers are high, and I really wouldn't be surprised to hear about fights breaking out eventually. Personally, I just prefer to stay by myself. I don't need to see the looks in the eyes of my crew to feel the recrimination from them. I never should have destroyed the Caretaker's array. I never should have stranded us out here. All of those dead crewmembers, Starfleet and Maquis alike, are the result of my bad decisions. My fault, my responsibility.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready to go, Katie?"
Quickly slapping at the mute button, I glance up and scowl at Phoebe. "Forget how to knock, Phoebe? And you know I hate it when you call me that."
She just grins and waddles off, humming tunelessly as she rubs the growing bulge of her stomach. We're now less than a year back from the Delta Quadrant, about to have an entire library and museum dedicated to Voyager and her crew, and all I can think of at the moment is that I'm going to be an aunt in less than a month. It's about time she finally got around to having a baby. I'm actually a bit surprised she didn't consider doing it when they all thought we were lost or dead. She still jokes about naming this baby after me if it's a girl. Something about the legacy inherent in the name of a strong person to be admired.
Is it wrong that I don't feel that the admiration is warranted? It was my own damned fault we got stuck in the Delta Quadrant in the first place. Yes, we have seven years' worth of data about the Delta Quadrant that is still being analyzed and which probably will continue to be for quite some time to come. Yes, there will be attempts made to return to the Delta Quadrant, thanks to the Reginald Barclay and his technology that got us home.
"What I wouldn't give to be on that ship."
"Did you say something, dear?"
My mother's voice startles me out of my reverie, and I scowl at the flush of embarrassment heating my cheeks. "Just talking to myself, Mom. Nothing to worry about."
"You should be getting ready, you know. We're supposed to be leaving--"
"--in an hour." I finish the sentence with her. At least some things never change. "Damn, I didn't realize just how late it had gotten." I wince at her harrumph of disapproval, apology quick on my lips, and move toward the bathroom… to find the door locked. "Phoebe! I need the shower."
"Well, your sister needs the toilet. The sprog is using my bladder as a trampoline. Use Mama's bathroom."
"Phoebe, you knew I needed the bathroom when you were just harassing me. Why didn't you use Mom's bathroom?"
The door opens with a flourish and I'm met by my glowing sister, stroking the bulge of her stomach. It's nauseating how happy and carefree she continues to be during this latter part of her pregnancy. She starts to speak, but groans instead, and I can see the impression of a foot stretching out her stomach. Without thought, I'm on my knees, hand stroking over that very spot until the restlessness settles.
"Hey in there, little kicker," I murmur. "This is your Auntie Kathryn. You need to take it easy on your mama or get out of there. You and me, we'll gang up on your mama and tickle her until she wets herself."
"Katie! That's not fair! I was three years old and you should know better."
Chuckling darkly, I slip past her into the bathroom. "And you should know better than to tempt me, Pheebs."
She mutters something darkly as I close the door and turn on the water. What I wouldn't give for a nice long bath right now, but there's just no time. A shower will have to suffice until after all of this nonsense is completed. Besides, a bath would just bring up memories and feelings better left buried still. Like the personal log I was listening to before Phoebe interrupted me. That time in The Void was one of the darkest in my life, pun entirely not intended. My father's death was perhaps the only other utterly depressing time in my life.
Shaking my head to rid myself of such morbid thoughts, I concentrate on my shower and once again promise myself a long, leisurely soak in the tub with a bottle of Merlot once this is all done. Stepping back into the bedroom of my childhood, I can see that my mother has pressed my dress uniform. I hate that damned thing. Makes me feel like I'm wearing a suit of armor disguised as a dress. I'd much rather do this in the uniform I wore while on Voyager. I can practically hear my father reprimanding me.
That just wouldn't be becoming of a Starfleet admiral at an official Starfleet function, now would it, Kathryn?
Only barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the memory, I begin to don the accoutrements of my rank. Each piece pushes the nightmares and bad memories behind their dungeon doors, locked away safely until such time as I can really deal with them. If that time ever comes. Right now, I need to be fully present and aware for my ship and my crew. For my family, all of them, related by blood or chosen by circumstance. If it weren't for them, I'd have given up years ago, lost in the Delta Quadrant. Thankfully, I was never allowed to do that.
Turning at the low cough from behind me, I see Mom and Phoebe in the doorway, dressed smartly, and smile at them. Mom comes in to fuss with my hair and pick at invisible specks on my uniform.
"Your father would be so proud of you, Kathryn," she replies, voice husky with emotion. "When we thought we'd lost you, I was beside myself with grief at the memories of losing your father to Starfleet. Your sister here was determined that you weren't dead, and I latched onto that almost instantly. No one else would believe us, not even Mark."
"It's okay, Mom," I say, clearing the huskiness out of my own voice. "There were so many times I wanted to give up out there, but I didn't. And we made it home, didn't we?" I glance up to flash a smile at my sister, extending a hand to her. "I had the two of you to come home to, and all of those other families to whom I had to return as many of my crew as I possibly could."
"I’m just glad you made it home," Phoebe adds. "I didn't want to have to name the sprog after you and have a completely unmanageable pain in the butt to deal with."
Snorting, I lean over to stroke her stomach again. "You don't listen to her, little kicker. You come out swinging and worry about the details later. You're a Janeway, after all, and I didn't fight all sorts of odds to come back here and have you wimp out on me."
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG
Focus: Kathryn Janeway
Date: 13-15 October 2010
Word Count: 1306
Written for:
femme_fic 2010
Recipient: atraphoenix
Prompt: Legacy
Summary: There's something about the legacy inherent in the name of a strong person to be admired.
Spoilers: Post-series, though there are spoilers for episode 05x01, "Night".
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Not From Around Here
Link to: http://sff.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions,
femme_fic, & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Feedback: Concrit always welcome.
Disclaimer: "Star Trek: Voyager," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Paramount Pictures, CBS Television, and several other people or companies over the years. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Star Trek: Voyager," Paramount Pictures, or any representatives of the actors.
Author's Notes: There was another story I really wanted to try for this prompt, but I knew it wouldn't work right. It was a similar situation, but involved a long lost lover of Kathryn's, and I didn't think I would be able to adequately and properly introduce the lover in the context of the story. Plus? The prompt was about Kathryn, not Kathryn and a heretofore unknown lover of hers. That story will come somewhere down the line.
I want to do a major shout out to Watch Trek.com for having all of the Voyager episodes available, so I could re-watch Night for clarification. You can bet that site will be used in the future for any episodes I need to rewatch. Any family and background info I'd forgotten and needed on Kathryn Janeway came from Memory Alpha.
Additional inspiration on this story came from the song, I'm Your Captain (Closer to Home) by Grand Funk Railroad. The lyrics were more important when I was going to focus on "Night", but I listened to the song on repeat for the bulk of the time that I was writing this story, so they still work as an influence/inspiration.
Dedication: To my Kathryn Janeway muse, for being really damned patient all these years before I could write about her again…
Beta:
ct
"Legacy"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 52081.2
What is it about the darkness of night that brings all of one's flaws to the forefront? We entered this desolate, dark region of space weeks ago, and it's definitely taking its toll on all of us. I believe Chakotay said the crew's taken to calling it The Void.
The holodecks are certainly getting a workout. The ship can practically guide itself. It's not like we have any stars to steer by. Nothing but vast swathes of seamless black engulfing us. The last estimates I heard put us at two years of living through this little slice of hell. Well, maybe not so little.
I've noticed tempers are high, and I really wouldn't be surprised to hear about fights breaking out eventually. Personally, I just prefer to stay by myself. I don't need to see the looks in the eyes of my crew to feel the recrimination from them. I never should have destroyed the Caretaker's array. I never should have stranded us out here. All of those dead crewmembers, Starfleet and Maquis alike, are the result of my bad decisions. My fault, my responsibility.
"Shouldn't you be getting ready to go, Katie?"
Quickly slapping at the mute button, I glance up and scowl at Phoebe. "Forget how to knock, Phoebe? And you know I hate it when you call me that."
She just grins and waddles off, humming tunelessly as she rubs the growing bulge of her stomach. We're now less than a year back from the Delta Quadrant, about to have an entire library and museum dedicated to Voyager and her crew, and all I can think of at the moment is that I'm going to be an aunt in less than a month. It's about time she finally got around to having a baby. I'm actually a bit surprised she didn't consider doing it when they all thought we were lost or dead. She still jokes about naming this baby after me if it's a girl. Something about the legacy inherent in the name of a strong person to be admired.
Is it wrong that I don't feel that the admiration is warranted? It was my own damned fault we got stuck in the Delta Quadrant in the first place. Yes, we have seven years' worth of data about the Delta Quadrant that is still being analyzed and which probably will continue to be for quite some time to come. Yes, there will be attempts made to return to the Delta Quadrant, thanks to the Reginald Barclay and his technology that got us home.
"What I wouldn't give to be on that ship."
"Did you say something, dear?"
My mother's voice startles me out of my reverie, and I scowl at the flush of embarrassment heating my cheeks. "Just talking to myself, Mom. Nothing to worry about."
"You should be getting ready, you know. We're supposed to be leaving--"
"--in an hour." I finish the sentence with her. At least some things never change. "Damn, I didn't realize just how late it had gotten." I wince at her harrumph of disapproval, apology quick on my lips, and move toward the bathroom… to find the door locked. "Phoebe! I need the shower."
"Well, your sister needs the toilet. The sprog is using my bladder as a trampoline. Use Mama's bathroom."
"Phoebe, you knew I needed the bathroom when you were just harassing me. Why didn't you use Mom's bathroom?"
The door opens with a flourish and I'm met by my glowing sister, stroking the bulge of her stomach. It's nauseating how happy and carefree she continues to be during this latter part of her pregnancy. She starts to speak, but groans instead, and I can see the impression of a foot stretching out her stomach. Without thought, I'm on my knees, hand stroking over that very spot until the restlessness settles.
"Hey in there, little kicker," I murmur. "This is your Auntie Kathryn. You need to take it easy on your mama or get out of there. You and me, we'll gang up on your mama and tickle her until she wets herself."
"Katie! That's not fair! I was three years old and you should know better."
Chuckling darkly, I slip past her into the bathroom. "And you should know better than to tempt me, Pheebs."
She mutters something darkly as I close the door and turn on the water. What I wouldn't give for a nice long bath right now, but there's just no time. A shower will have to suffice until after all of this nonsense is completed. Besides, a bath would just bring up memories and feelings better left buried still. Like the personal log I was listening to before Phoebe interrupted me. That time in The Void was one of the darkest in my life, pun entirely not intended. My father's death was perhaps the only other utterly depressing time in my life.
Shaking my head to rid myself of such morbid thoughts, I concentrate on my shower and once again promise myself a long, leisurely soak in the tub with a bottle of Merlot once this is all done. Stepping back into the bedroom of my childhood, I can see that my mother has pressed my dress uniform. I hate that damned thing. Makes me feel like I'm wearing a suit of armor disguised as a dress. I'd much rather do this in the uniform I wore while on Voyager. I can practically hear my father reprimanding me.
That just wouldn't be becoming of a Starfleet admiral at an official Starfleet function, now would it, Kathryn?
Only barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the memory, I begin to don the accoutrements of my rank. Each piece pushes the nightmares and bad memories behind their dungeon doors, locked away safely until such time as I can really deal with them. If that time ever comes. Right now, I need to be fully present and aware for my ship and my crew. For my family, all of them, related by blood or chosen by circumstance. If it weren't for them, I'd have given up years ago, lost in the Delta Quadrant. Thankfully, I was never allowed to do that.
Turning at the low cough from behind me, I see Mom and Phoebe in the doorway, dressed smartly, and smile at them. Mom comes in to fuss with my hair and pick at invisible specks on my uniform.
"Your father would be so proud of you, Kathryn," she replies, voice husky with emotion. "When we thought we'd lost you, I was beside myself with grief at the memories of losing your father to Starfleet. Your sister here was determined that you weren't dead, and I latched onto that almost instantly. No one else would believe us, not even Mark."
"It's okay, Mom," I say, clearing the huskiness out of my own voice. "There were so many times I wanted to give up out there, but I didn't. And we made it home, didn't we?" I glance up to flash a smile at my sister, extending a hand to her. "I had the two of you to come home to, and all of those other families to whom I had to return as many of my crew as I possibly could."
"I’m just glad you made it home," Phoebe adds. "I didn't want to have to name the sprog after you and have a completely unmanageable pain in the butt to deal with."
Snorting, I lean over to stroke her stomach again. "You don't listen to her, little kicker. You come out swinging and worry about the details later. You're a Janeway, after all, and I didn't fight all sorts of odds to come back here and have you wimp out on me."
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.