Fic: Stalemate (rated M) VOY J/C pt II of IV
Title: Stalemate
Author: Oparu
Rating: M (sex, major character death...sort of)
Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay,
Spoilers: Endgame happened (unfortunately - Seven/Chakotay, really?) so did Full Circle Before Dishonour (the book where they kill Janeway -really unfortunately)
Notes: I think this is the best thing I've ever written. I'm not sure if that's crazy vain or me or not...but it is.
Summary: Deacades after losing Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay travels back into the past and arrives the same day as Admiral Janeway did when she brought Voyagerhome. Both the timelines they experienced are unacceptable. How can their younger selves find a way to keep their family, and each other, alive and well?
part I || part II || part III || part IV
"Doctor to Captain Janeway," her commbadge interrupted. "Are you with our visitor?"
She sighed instead of responding to the summons.
"There's something on my brain scan," the elderly Chakotay reminded her. "He'll want me in sickbay."
Still shaken by his story, all she could do was nod to him as she tapped her commbadge. "Janeway here. Doctor, what can I do for you?"
"I need our visitor back in sickbay immediately," the Doctor's concern was evident in the sharp tone of his voice, but Chakotay only shrugged.
"If you can spare Tuvok, he may be better able to explain it to the Doctor," he requested. He stood slowly, reminding her again how fragile this version of her first officer was.
For some reason, that only increased her apprehension. There were many parts of the Vulcan mental abilities she had to take on faith because she'd never understand the intricacies of telepaths. Having experienced Tuvok's memories first hand through a mind meld, Kathryn believes there were a great many things she'd have to take his word regarding the workings of the Vulcan mind. "Will you be all right?" The question was both shyer and more caring than she'd intended.
Chakotay smiled calmly, just as hers would, but she had a harder time believing him. "I'll be fine, captain."
She nodded and tapped her commbadge. "Mr. Tuvok, please report to my ready room to escort our guest back to sickbay."
"Aye, captain," Tuvok responded immediately.
Chakotay passed her on his way to the door. Kathryn stared at her desk and wondered what she was getting herself into. If the other version of her was indeed arriving, she'd more than have her hands full. One Kathryn Janeway was quite enough for her to deal with on a daily basis.
She turned to him before he left. "Chakotay," Kathryn began, shyly curious. "You don't have to call me captain. I'm sure in your time, you don't." Or didn't, she realised after she spoke.
Tuvok chose that moment to enter, breaking a look between then that was turning her knees to water. She was entirely unprepared for the depth of his connection to her. Her Chakotay kept a respectful distance, and they'd maintained that for long enough that neither of them wavered back to how they'd been. No matter how-
She couldn't think that way.
"I called you Kathryn," Chakotay answered, still smiling. "Except, perhaps the once or twice when I needed to call you Admiral." He made the last a gentle rebuke. Reminding her that even in the far away future, before her- Kathryn's mind struggled to process it- her death, Chakotay was, as he'd been for the last seven years, still her conscience and her guide.
Nodding slowly, she gave him permission, just as she had five years ago on New Earth. "I think I'd like you to continue to do that," she finished.
Tuvok raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle shift between them and filing it away.
Kathryn didn't have time to think about what she was doing, or how much Chakotay's eventual disappearance back into the aether between time and the universes would reopen a wound she'd been trying to allow to heal.
"As you wish," Chakotay finished before he left with Tuvok.
Sinking back against her desk, Kathryn dropped her gaze to the carpet and realised part of the knot in her stomach had nothing to do with Chakotay, and was simply the gnawing ache of being alone. She'd lost Justin first, then Mark, and now she'd kept Chakotay so far away that he would cross decades for her.
And her for him. That had to be part of the inbound from the future Admiral Janeway's drive. Losing Chakotay upon their return home was inconceivable; being taken by the Borg made her nauseated at the thought and was equally as horrifying. There had to be a better way. Something, some compromise. Voyager deserved to go home; her crew needed their families. Chakotay would sacrifice himself for that in a heartbeat, as would she, but it wasn't her death that terrified her.
It was her part in the brutally efficient slaughter of her own people once she became Borg that had her stomach in knots. Her knuckles were white on the edge of the desk, and the metal cut into her palms. She couldn't be responsible for mass murder. She couldn't die with that on her conscience. She would not be an instrument of the faceless evil that brought assimilation and terror. Between the rock and the hard place she would find a better way, no matter what sacrifice that inevitably took."It does appear to be a Vulcan mental pattern," Tuvok agreed with the Doctor.
Chakotay looked on patiently. His feet had started to go numb in Kathryn's ready room, and even when she'd touched him, he'd had a hard time feeling it. Sek's stern warnings about the danger of what he had decided to do echoed in his mind, slipping around the edges of his memories and the super-imposed Vulcan ones. It was so much easier to be calm when one shared his mind with the echo of a Vulcan. Seeing Kathryn again would have had him in tears without the mental passenger he carried and in a small way, he was grateful.
The tea the Doctor had generously allowed him did nothing to warm his hands, and Chakotay had burnt his mouth when he'd taken his first sip. Even though it had hurt at first, that stinging sensation had faded. He hated to rush them, hurry was inefficient, but his time was growing shorter each moment.
"I shared fal-tor-voh with your son Sek," Chakotay interrupted the Doctor's explanation. "With the aid of one of the monks of Amonak, they sealed an echo of him in my mind."
"This explanation is crude, but possible," Tuvok said with a tilt of his head. "Many of the monks are capable of feats of great mental discipline. However, such a meld would cause extensive damage to the mind of a human if not immediately purged. Your neural pathways are inadequate and incompatible with Vulcan neural impressions."
"Damage like the complete failure of his perimeter nerves, the degradation of his motor cortex and the decay of his brain stem?" The Doctor asked sarcastically. "Extensive may be an understatement. I don't even know how to begin the repair of your-"
"You won't," Chakotay corrected him kindly. "This is a one way trip, Doctor. Why don't you prepare to monitor Tuvok so he can take the impression out of my mind? As pleasant as it is to have Vulcan mental discipline, I think I'd like to die alone with my thoughts."
Tuvok's eyebrow rose again but he agreed with the suggestion. "The mind meld would pose little risk to me, Doctor."
"Of course, meld with the dying man. I'll just prepare for an autopsy," the Doctor snapped in frustration. He fitted a neural monitor to Tuvok's parietal bone and then turned to Chakotay. "I'm sure this was a last resort?"
"It was the least I could do for a friend," Chakotay answered serenely. Seeing Kathryn again had been the last necessary stop on his journey. Peace was the only warmth he was still capable of feeling, and knowing she would live, was enough to make this end a welcome one. Even if his past self was too foolish to realise how much he was missing, Chakotay had hope that his spirit guide would give his younger self the same ultimatum he'd once received. Maybe in this time, he'd listen.She'd been prepared for surprise. Shock, mistrust and suspicion were perfectly rational ways to respond to someone from the future appearing and insisting that you alter course. Admiral Janeway was content she could deal with those emotions. She knew herself better than anyone.
The self that greeted her was younger, her hair was still bright auburn and her figure trimmer than Kathryn had been in a few years. Instead of meeting Kathryn's gaze with suspicion or wonder, her past self was on the verge of tears.
She had her emotions checked enough that her crew wouldn't have guessed, but Kathryn knew herself. She'd chosen her moment carefully. Kathryn remembered the Borg signatures and the nebula perfectly.
She'd had no grief then. She hadn't been that rattled.
Perhaps it was a fluke. Maybe she'd misunderstood herself on the viewscreen. When she materialised in Voyager's familiar transporter room, she half expected her former self to have recovered.
If anything, she was worse in person. The other her, the captain, had been shaken to the core of her being. It couldn't have been her, Kathryn resolved. Her appearance, no matter how shocking, wasn't enough to provoke this response.
"Would you like me in sickbay?" she asked her former self politely. "You can confirm my identity there."
"Of course, I assume you know the way." the other her fell in step behind her. Her lips were too tight, and Kathryn knew exactly what that kind of tension felt like. It didn't fit. There was no fight, no argument, and that didn't make any sense at all.
The captain even let her summon the turbolift, deferring to her as if she'd been expected. When they reached deck five and the lift opened, Kathryn let the security guard leave first, then paused.
"What is it?" she demanded of her former self. "You're not surprised to see me?"
"I knew you were coming," the captain replied, choking ever so slightly on her words.
It was taking all of her will for her younger self to maintain her composure and Kathryn had no right to take that from her. She wouldn't be that cruel. She walked the rest of the way to sickbay in silence, trusting that all would be explained eventually.
Few things would have made her control falter. Kathryn had experienced two more decades than her younger self and had that much more practice steeling herself against her emotions. She'd had both time and occasion to improve her already impressive control. She'd even prepared herself to see Chakotay and Seven again. She'd drilled it into her own mind that this time was different, this time they'd both live because she would not allow them to die.
Nothing could have prepared her for him.
Chakotay, not the young man behind the captain from this time period, but the elderly man her Chakotay hadn't lived to become. He sat meditating on the biobed with Tuvok on another bed nearby, his hands in his lap. His hair was whiter than hers, and his skin fragile and lined. He was easily older than she was by at least a decade. When she looked at him, all she could see was her Chakotay: the man she'd sat with while he died, whose ashes she'd scattered beneath that tree with his memorial, and whose eulogy she'd had to stumble through in front of the surviving members of her crew.
"No," she shook her head, fighting desperately against the crumbling of her resolve.
"Kathryn," he noticed, opening his eyes. "You're exactly on time."
"I always am," she replied, remember the hundreds of dinners she'd never been late for, or the way he'd teased her for being one minute late to his wedding. Kathryn couldn't have told him then that she was late because her heart had been torn from her chest and she didn't know how to smile without it.
The elderly Chakotay nodded, smiling as if everything was right with the universe. "That's what I love about you."
They avoided the word love. Neither of them had mentioned it after Seven's death, and the smouldering connection between them had evolved until it stagnated and tortured them both. She'd hated him for dying and leaving her. He'd begged her forgiveness, pleaded with her to understand that he'd been ready to start his journey once Seven had left without him. She'd held his hand, promising him through the last of her tears that she understood.
She hadn't cried after that. Kathryn had spent the last of her grief over his cooling body. The only thing she'd had left was resolve. The same stubborn refusal to give up that had gotten her crew home once would get them home better. She owed them that much; she owed Chakotay a life full of love and happiness, even if it couldn't be with her.
Kathryn took a step towards him, her arms plastered to her sides as if she'd forgotten how to move them.
"It's been a long time," she whispered, wishing she had the strength to chase the lump from her throat. She didn't cry.
"Ten years for you," Chakotay said, reaching towards her.
She couldn't take his hand. Dammit. This was not supposed to happen.
Her traitorous feet moved her closer, and his gentle fingers drew her in. Chakotay's hand ran up her arm and finally closed just above her elbow. His other hand caught her shoulder and held her before him for an instant before he embraced her so hard she lost her breath. He certainly didn't appear to have the strength, but he held on as if she were the last human being in the universe.
He whispered into her hair, the hot tears he wept freely were hot against her forehead. "For me, it's been a lot longer than that."Kathryn retreated back to the Doctor's office, leaning against the door frame and letting the impossible reunion of two old friends, who'd lost each other decades ago, take place with as much privacy as she could give them. She closed her eyes, taking the slowest breath she could manage.
"Doctor," she ordered, "please confirm her identity when it seems polite to do so."
"Yes, captain," the hologram agreed, moving to sit behind his desk. "You may also wish to know that I expect Lieutenant Commander Tuvok to make a full recovery from his degenerative neurological condition. The mind meld that Chakotay performed in the Alpha Quadrant and the second a few minutes ago seem to have provided the necessary stabilising effect on Tuvok's neural chemistry."
"Thank you," she replied numbly. That was a relief at least. "Doctor, I'll be in my ready room. Let me know when they-"
The Doctor cocked his head in the direction of their visitors, both still wrapped in each other's arms. "I didn't know your relationship with the commander would change so much over a few short decades."
It was a joke, Kathryn reminded herself, but she didn't have the emotional reserve left to handle it. "Thank you," she repeated, and tactically fled sickbay.
Once she was alone in the turbolift, her hands began to tremble. She'd been fighting everything since that Chakotay had appeared. He'd been emotionally devastating enough, then she'd met herself. Admiral Janeway was cold, over confidant and overbearing. She was all the things Kathryn had promised herself not to become if she ever made the Admiralty.
Maybe there was only so much loss she could take. Chakotay without her was a haunted man, and herself without him was barely more than the remnants of her temper with a uniform: that uniform represented the career she'd obviously thrown away because she needed to keep him alive.
How could she turn into that? Were those her only two options? Becoming a bitter old Admiral who'd outlived her best friends or an instrument of the Borg's vendetta against humanity? There had to be another way, a better way, some fate less ominous.
The turbolift paused to let her out onto the bridge, and she stared instead of moving. Tom was at his station, and Harry was moving towards Chakotay's chair. It was quiet. B'Elanna had her hands full down in the shuttle bay examining the Admiral's shuttle and everything was operating efficiently. She could take the time to think.
Chakotay's hands caught her half a second before she crashed into him. "Sorry, captain," he offered apologetically. "I guess I'm wearing my cloaking device today."
Another joke, and she still could barely summon a wan smile. "Perhaps you are." She removed herself from his protective grasp and started towards her ready room. "I don't suppose you'd except lunch as an apology."
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I have plans."
Perhaps it was for the best, Kathryn thought. She was cursed to be alone, no matter what she did."I wish to alter the parameters of our relationship," Seven announced over their lunch.
Chakotay set down his glass, folded his hands in his lap and waited for her to continue. He couldn't help feeling guilty turning down Kathryn's invitation. She'd been walking a knife's edge since that version of him had arrived from one possible future, and the brittle, almost caustic presence of Admiral Janeway wasn't helping. He hadn't seen her in person yet, but she'd been jarring enough over the viewscreen.
"In what way?" he asked Seven, dragging his thoughts away from all incarnations of Kathryn Janeway.
"I believe I have begun this relationship in error," Seven said, her expression strained. "I have made a mistake."
"Seven-"
"Chakotay," she interrupted. "I believe there is a flaw in this pursuit of a romantic relationship. The flaw lies within my reasoning, and I am fully responsible for the necessary termination of this relationship in its current form."
"It's not you, it's me?" he asked slowly, trying not to smile.
"I believe that is a common form for a break-up to take," Seven replied calmly. "I apologise for any confusion on your part. Romantic relationships are very perplexing for me, and though I believed you were the party I found most desirable, it appears I was in error."
He'd do her little good if he forced his disappointment on her or reacted badly, so Chakotay tried to approach the situation as if he were an outside observer. "Would you care to elaborate?"
"I don't believe I can," Seven answered regretfully. "It would be inappropriate for me to comment on the feelings of a third party when that party has not made her feelings known."
"Discuss it with me in the hypothetical," he suggested, quickly forgetting his disappointment as his curiosity took over.
She pondered that, and as she thought, Chakotay realised there was only one person on Voyager she would protect this carefully. Seven had never been good at reading facial expressions and he buried his surprise as deeply as he could.
"Your suitability as a romantic partner is not something I have determined for myself. I believe I substituted the feelings of someone else for my own. I am not comfortable identifying the individual, and I am very sorry if I have hurt you. I would like us to return to being friends if that is still possible."
"Of course," he assured her gently. "Sometimes you have to try a relationship to see if it'll work out, and it doesn't. No one's lost anything, especially not our friendship." He'd been flattered she was interested in him; Seven was lovely and intelligent and reminded him a great deal of Kathryn.
Who loved him. Which was a thought he'd tried to put out of his head. They needed the space between each other to function, Kathryn couldn't risk her heart again, it would ruin the chain of command: he had a list of reasons a parsec long.
"May I ask who you are attracted to?" Chakotay wondered, settling back in to finish the picnic to spare them both the discomfort of leaving it unfinished.
"I believe I am attracted to Ensign Lang," Seven explained coolly. "She appears to have an attraction to me as well, and has invited me to share her holodeck time. We will be attending a simulation of the Hoobishan baths on Trill."
"I've heard good things," he said, trying not to chuckle. "Ensign Lang is a lovely young woman."
"I find her sense of humour acceptable, her dedication to her work adequate, her conversations stimulating and her hair very distracting," Seven finished the last with her dazzling smile. "I believe that is an acceptable foundation to being a relationship."
"I wish you and Beth the best," he promised, grinning around a strawberry. "If you have any questions about dating a human."
"I may ask your advice," Seven replied, clearly relieved he was taking it so well. "The Doctor's thoughts can be unpredictable and Tuvok is frequently perplexed by human dating rituals. While the captain is very wise, and I rely on her counsel in many things, I do not believe this would be appropriate to discuss with her at this juncture."
"Fair enough," he agreed. If Seven was more interested in women, it was entirely possible she had a bit of a crush on Kathryn. He couldn't blame her. Kathryn was entirely captivating and she'd been uniquely honest with Seven. "Good luck," Chakotay offered. "Beth Lang is very fortunate."
"Thank you," Seven acknowledged with surprising warmth. "I also feel fortunate.""I remember that scent. Lavender, isn't it?"
The voice jolted her out of her thoughts. Kathryn startled, sitting up in her bath. She reached for her towel, panicked by the intrusion, and saw her future self.
The Admiral handed it over and held it above the water. "The computer let me in."
Kathryn frowned, cursing the computer mentally. "Of course, it did, you're me." Instead of taking the towel, she retreated into the back corner of the tub. It was her after all, modesty seemed a little out of place.
The admiral folded the towel and set it neatly aside. "Apparently Voyager isn't bothered by two of us existing," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bath. "Nor two Chakotays."
"I don't think the ambassador goes around walking in on his younger self," Kathryn retorted, trying not to feel as violated as she had when Phoebe had gone through her things. This was another her, not a sister, but the trespass was similar.
"If it's any consolation, someday you'll wish you looked that good again," the admiral promised darkly. "Though we haven't aged too badly, all in all."
Kathryn let her hands sink back beneath the surface of the bubbles. The water was still warm and she'd been just starting to get the idea of the Borg out of her head. "What do you want?" she asked softly. Maybe if she answered the question, the admiral would leave and she could start lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as she dealt with her inevitable insomnia.
"What did he tell you?" the admiral asked, trailing her hand through the bubbles. "The ambassador told you about his timeline, didn't he?"
Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, Kathryn nodded. "Not in detail."
"And he told you about mine?" the admiral pressed. She let water drip from her fingers slowly back into the tub instead of drying her hand.
The heat of the bath had become oppressive instead of comforting; Kathryn sighed and put her hand out for the towel. The admiral handed it over politely, but made no move to avert her eyes.
"No offence," Kathryn replied, "but both of them sound like something I want to avoid." Standing up from the bath, she felt more exposed than simply nude. She wrapped the towel around herself quickly, crushing piles of bubbles against her skin and dragging the corner in the water. Activating the drain, she stood in the bath while the water vanished back into the ship's reclamation system.
"So what will you do?" the admiral asked, locking her gaze.
Kathryn wasn't sure when she'd become so cold, but it was disconcerting to see herself so pitiless. She removed the small towel that held her hair and let it fall damply to her shoulders. "I don't know," she answered honestly.
Dragging her hand through her hair, Kathryn stepped out of the bath onto the cool deck. Water ran down her feet and pooled around her. The admiral was still watching her, and she gave up on modesty to dry herself. Rubbing the towel across her shoulders, she frowned towards one of the futures she was trying to avoid.
"Your timeline ends without Seven or Chakotay, and I can't imagine losing Tuvok like that." She dried her left arm, ignoring the admiral's eyes. "Chakotay's seems to work out better, at least, for everyone but me and the thousands of people I kill."
"It's not you," the admiral reminded her. Kathryn thought she heard a trace of pity.
"Isn't it?" she argued. Working the towel down her torso, she voiced the argument she'd been making internally all evening. "Locutus of Borg wasn't Jean-Luc Picard, but it was Picard's knowledge of the fleet that got that cube as far as it did. A queen, or whatever it is that I become, wouldn't be me, but it would be my knowledge of the Federation, my insight, my very essence that they used to kill."
The cold knot in her stomach she'd been hoping the bath would ease away roared up into her chest. Holding the towel wrapped loosely around her waist, Kathryn shivered at the thought. "I can't let that happen. I'll take my chances here in the Delta Quadrant if it'll prevent that from happening."
"But the crew..." the admiral finished for her, her voice softening for the first time since she'd seen Chakotay in sickbay.
"How do I keep them from their homes?" Kathryn asked herself. "How can I ask them to spend any more time away from their families just so I don't-"
"Become a soulless monster?" the admiral interrupted. "I don't know. Chakotay, Ambassador Chakotay, hasn't been able to tell me about that death. He seems to have come all this way, just to warn you not to listen to me." She folded her hands, staring down at her entwined fingers as she searched for words.
"I'm no Borg, but my experience was no picnic. You'll lose members of your crew. I was so tired during one memorial service that I forgot Ensign Latimer's name. It was the fourth one in as many days and I just couldn't-" The admiral shut her eyes and the forcefield that held her emotions in check snapped down. "I am not what you wish to become, Kathryn. I'm a bitter old woman who barely speaks to her family. No matter how much they try to drag me away from myself, I hold on to the loneliness so hard that I'll never be able to let it go."
"I can't become Borg," Kathryn whispered, clutching the towel to her chest. "I will not. I can't follow your path." She turned away, passing the admiral on her way to the bedroom.
The admiral knew her too well and followed her. "You'll stay here," the admiral realised. "You'll send Voyager home in the transwarp hub, follow the plan that worked in Chakotay's timeline but remove yourself from the equation." She leaned in the doorway of the bedroom, tone dripping with disdain. "And you'll do what? Take the Delta Flyer back to Quarra and see if that engineer still wants you to move in? Live in the mining colony with Neelix and the Talaxians? Study stellar phenomena until you make a mistake and mercifully get yourself killed?"
"All of it's better than the Borg," Kathryn reminded her. Dropping the towel into the laundry, she pulled her pyjamas over her damp skin. "If Chakotay taking the crew home prevents either of the futures I know about from happening, then it sounds good to me." The admiral was silent then. Once she was dressed, Kathryn turned, looking for the admiral.
The elder woman waited in her living room, arms crossed over her chest as she looked out at the stars. "Your plan might work," she offered, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But, it's a big galaxy and if the Borg can't find you, I'm sure they'll just find someone else. Admiral Necheyev, T'Sorna, or Seven of Nine herself. The Borg don't give up."
"Neither did I," Kathryn corrected. "At least, not now. I don't know if I do in the future." It was almost too cruel, but her frustration had hold of her.
The admiral's shoulders squared and she stiffened as if she'd been reinforced with duranium. "It's easy not to give up when he's standing there beside you. When he's gone, when you've watched him die slowly for years, giving up is all you have left."
onto part III
Author: Oparu
Rating: M (sex, major character death...sort of)
Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay,
Spoilers: Endgame happened (unfortunately - Seven/Chakotay, really?) so did Full Circle Before Dishonour (the book where they kill Janeway -really unfortunately)
Notes: I think this is the best thing I've ever written. I'm not sure if that's crazy vain or me or not...but it is.
Summary: Deacades after losing Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay travels back into the past and arrives the same day as Admiral Janeway did when she brought Voyagerhome. Both the timelines they experienced are unacceptable. How can their younger selves find a way to keep their family, and each other, alive and well?
part I || part II || part III || part IV
"Doctor to Captain Janeway," her commbadge interrupted. "Are you with our visitor?"
She sighed instead of responding to the summons.
"There's something on my brain scan," the elderly Chakotay reminded her. "He'll want me in sickbay."
Still shaken by his story, all she could do was nod to him as she tapped her commbadge. "Janeway here. Doctor, what can I do for you?"
"I need our visitor back in sickbay immediately," the Doctor's concern was evident in the sharp tone of his voice, but Chakotay only shrugged.
"If you can spare Tuvok, he may be better able to explain it to the Doctor," he requested. He stood slowly, reminding her again how fragile this version of her first officer was.
For some reason, that only increased her apprehension. There were many parts of the Vulcan mental abilities she had to take on faith because she'd never understand the intricacies of telepaths. Having experienced Tuvok's memories first hand through a mind meld, Kathryn believes there were a great many things she'd have to take his word regarding the workings of the Vulcan mind. "Will you be all right?" The question was both shyer and more caring than she'd intended.
Chakotay smiled calmly, just as hers would, but she had a harder time believing him. "I'll be fine, captain."
She nodded and tapped her commbadge. "Mr. Tuvok, please report to my ready room to escort our guest back to sickbay."
"Aye, captain," Tuvok responded immediately.
Chakotay passed her on his way to the door. Kathryn stared at her desk and wondered what she was getting herself into. If the other version of her was indeed arriving, she'd more than have her hands full. One Kathryn Janeway was quite enough for her to deal with on a daily basis.
She turned to him before he left. "Chakotay," Kathryn began, shyly curious. "You don't have to call me captain. I'm sure in your time, you don't." Or didn't, she realised after she spoke.
Tuvok chose that moment to enter, breaking a look between then that was turning her knees to water. She was entirely unprepared for the depth of his connection to her. Her Chakotay kept a respectful distance, and they'd maintained that for long enough that neither of them wavered back to how they'd been. No matter how-
She couldn't think that way.
"I called you Kathryn," Chakotay answered, still smiling. "Except, perhaps the once or twice when I needed to call you Admiral." He made the last a gentle rebuke. Reminding her that even in the far away future, before her- Kathryn's mind struggled to process it- her death, Chakotay was, as he'd been for the last seven years, still her conscience and her guide.
Nodding slowly, she gave him permission, just as she had five years ago on New Earth. "I think I'd like you to continue to do that," she finished.
Tuvok raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle shift between them and filing it away.
Kathryn didn't have time to think about what she was doing, or how much Chakotay's eventual disappearance back into the aether between time and the universes would reopen a wound she'd been trying to allow to heal.
"As you wish," Chakotay finished before he left with Tuvok.
Sinking back against her desk, Kathryn dropped her gaze to the carpet and realised part of the knot in her stomach had nothing to do with Chakotay, and was simply the gnawing ache of being alone. She'd lost Justin first, then Mark, and now she'd kept Chakotay so far away that he would cross decades for her.
And her for him. That had to be part of the inbound from the future Admiral Janeway's drive. Losing Chakotay upon their return home was inconceivable; being taken by the Borg made her nauseated at the thought and was equally as horrifying. There had to be a better way. Something, some compromise. Voyager deserved to go home; her crew needed their families. Chakotay would sacrifice himself for that in a heartbeat, as would she, but it wasn't her death that terrified her.
It was her part in the brutally efficient slaughter of her own people once she became Borg that had her stomach in knots. Her knuckles were white on the edge of the desk, and the metal cut into her palms. She couldn't be responsible for mass murder. She couldn't die with that on her conscience. She would not be an instrument of the faceless evil that brought assimilation and terror. Between the rock and the hard place she would find a better way, no matter what sacrifice that inevitably took."It does appear to be a Vulcan mental pattern," Tuvok agreed with the Doctor.
Chakotay looked on patiently. His feet had started to go numb in Kathryn's ready room, and even when she'd touched him, he'd had a hard time feeling it. Sek's stern warnings about the danger of what he had decided to do echoed in his mind, slipping around the edges of his memories and the super-imposed Vulcan ones. It was so much easier to be calm when one shared his mind with the echo of a Vulcan. Seeing Kathryn again would have had him in tears without the mental passenger he carried and in a small way, he was grateful.
The tea the Doctor had generously allowed him did nothing to warm his hands, and Chakotay had burnt his mouth when he'd taken his first sip. Even though it had hurt at first, that stinging sensation had faded. He hated to rush them, hurry was inefficient, but his time was growing shorter each moment.
"I shared fal-tor-voh with your son Sek," Chakotay interrupted the Doctor's explanation. "With the aid of one of the monks of Amonak, they sealed an echo of him in my mind."
"This explanation is crude, but possible," Tuvok said with a tilt of his head. "Many of the monks are capable of feats of great mental discipline. However, such a meld would cause extensive damage to the mind of a human if not immediately purged. Your neural pathways are inadequate and incompatible with Vulcan neural impressions."
"Damage like the complete failure of his perimeter nerves, the degradation of his motor cortex and the decay of his brain stem?" The Doctor asked sarcastically. "Extensive may be an understatement. I don't even know how to begin the repair of your-"
"You won't," Chakotay corrected him kindly. "This is a one way trip, Doctor. Why don't you prepare to monitor Tuvok so he can take the impression out of my mind? As pleasant as it is to have Vulcan mental discipline, I think I'd like to die alone with my thoughts."
Tuvok's eyebrow rose again but he agreed with the suggestion. "The mind meld would pose little risk to me, Doctor."
"Of course, meld with the dying man. I'll just prepare for an autopsy," the Doctor snapped in frustration. He fitted a neural monitor to Tuvok's parietal bone and then turned to Chakotay. "I'm sure this was a last resort?"
"It was the least I could do for a friend," Chakotay answered serenely. Seeing Kathryn again had been the last necessary stop on his journey. Peace was the only warmth he was still capable of feeling, and knowing she would live, was enough to make this end a welcome one. Even if his past self was too foolish to realise how much he was missing, Chakotay had hope that his spirit guide would give his younger self the same ultimatum he'd once received. Maybe in this time, he'd listen.She'd been prepared for surprise. Shock, mistrust and suspicion were perfectly rational ways to respond to someone from the future appearing and insisting that you alter course. Admiral Janeway was content she could deal with those emotions. She knew herself better than anyone.
The self that greeted her was younger, her hair was still bright auburn and her figure trimmer than Kathryn had been in a few years. Instead of meeting Kathryn's gaze with suspicion or wonder, her past self was on the verge of tears.
She had her emotions checked enough that her crew wouldn't have guessed, but Kathryn knew herself. She'd chosen her moment carefully. Kathryn remembered the Borg signatures and the nebula perfectly.
She'd had no grief then. She hadn't been that rattled.
Perhaps it was a fluke. Maybe she'd misunderstood herself on the viewscreen. When she materialised in Voyager's familiar transporter room, she half expected her former self to have recovered.
If anything, she was worse in person. The other her, the captain, had been shaken to the core of her being. It couldn't have been her, Kathryn resolved. Her appearance, no matter how shocking, wasn't enough to provoke this response.
"Would you like me in sickbay?" she asked her former self politely. "You can confirm my identity there."
"Of course, I assume you know the way." the other her fell in step behind her. Her lips were too tight, and Kathryn knew exactly what that kind of tension felt like. It didn't fit. There was no fight, no argument, and that didn't make any sense at all.
The captain even let her summon the turbolift, deferring to her as if she'd been expected. When they reached deck five and the lift opened, Kathryn let the security guard leave first, then paused.
"What is it?" she demanded of her former self. "You're not surprised to see me?"
"I knew you were coming," the captain replied, choking ever so slightly on her words.
It was taking all of her will for her younger self to maintain her composure and Kathryn had no right to take that from her. She wouldn't be that cruel. She walked the rest of the way to sickbay in silence, trusting that all would be explained eventually.
Few things would have made her control falter. Kathryn had experienced two more decades than her younger self and had that much more practice steeling herself against her emotions. She'd had both time and occasion to improve her already impressive control. She'd even prepared herself to see Chakotay and Seven again. She'd drilled it into her own mind that this time was different, this time they'd both live because she would not allow them to die.
Nothing could have prepared her for him.
Chakotay, not the young man behind the captain from this time period, but the elderly man her Chakotay hadn't lived to become. He sat meditating on the biobed with Tuvok on another bed nearby, his hands in his lap. His hair was whiter than hers, and his skin fragile and lined. He was easily older than she was by at least a decade. When she looked at him, all she could see was her Chakotay: the man she'd sat with while he died, whose ashes she'd scattered beneath that tree with his memorial, and whose eulogy she'd had to stumble through in front of the surviving members of her crew.
"No," she shook her head, fighting desperately against the crumbling of her resolve.
"Kathryn," he noticed, opening his eyes. "You're exactly on time."
"I always am," she replied, remember the hundreds of dinners she'd never been late for, or the way he'd teased her for being one minute late to his wedding. Kathryn couldn't have told him then that she was late because her heart had been torn from her chest and she didn't know how to smile without it.
The elderly Chakotay nodded, smiling as if everything was right with the universe. "That's what I love about you."
They avoided the word love. Neither of them had mentioned it after Seven's death, and the smouldering connection between them had evolved until it stagnated and tortured them both. She'd hated him for dying and leaving her. He'd begged her forgiveness, pleaded with her to understand that he'd been ready to start his journey once Seven had left without him. She'd held his hand, promising him through the last of her tears that she understood.
She hadn't cried after that. Kathryn had spent the last of her grief over his cooling body. The only thing she'd had left was resolve. The same stubborn refusal to give up that had gotten her crew home once would get them home better. She owed them that much; she owed Chakotay a life full of love and happiness, even if it couldn't be with her.
Kathryn took a step towards him, her arms plastered to her sides as if she'd forgotten how to move them.
"It's been a long time," she whispered, wishing she had the strength to chase the lump from her throat. She didn't cry.
"Ten years for you," Chakotay said, reaching towards her.
She couldn't take his hand. Dammit. This was not supposed to happen.
Her traitorous feet moved her closer, and his gentle fingers drew her in. Chakotay's hand ran up her arm and finally closed just above her elbow. His other hand caught her shoulder and held her before him for an instant before he embraced her so hard she lost her breath. He certainly didn't appear to have the strength, but he held on as if she were the last human being in the universe.
He whispered into her hair, the hot tears he wept freely were hot against her forehead. "For me, it's been a lot longer than that."Kathryn retreated back to the Doctor's office, leaning against the door frame and letting the impossible reunion of two old friends, who'd lost each other decades ago, take place with as much privacy as she could give them. She closed her eyes, taking the slowest breath she could manage.
"Doctor," she ordered, "please confirm her identity when it seems polite to do so."
"Yes, captain," the hologram agreed, moving to sit behind his desk. "You may also wish to know that I expect Lieutenant Commander Tuvok to make a full recovery from his degenerative neurological condition. The mind meld that Chakotay performed in the Alpha Quadrant and the second a few minutes ago seem to have provided the necessary stabilising effect on Tuvok's neural chemistry."
"Thank you," she replied numbly. That was a relief at least. "Doctor, I'll be in my ready room. Let me know when they-"
The Doctor cocked his head in the direction of their visitors, both still wrapped in each other's arms. "I didn't know your relationship with the commander would change so much over a few short decades."
It was a joke, Kathryn reminded herself, but she didn't have the emotional reserve left to handle it. "Thank you," she repeated, and tactically fled sickbay.
Once she was alone in the turbolift, her hands began to tremble. She'd been fighting everything since that Chakotay had appeared. He'd been emotionally devastating enough, then she'd met herself. Admiral Janeway was cold, over confidant and overbearing. She was all the things Kathryn had promised herself not to become if she ever made the Admiralty.
Maybe there was only so much loss she could take. Chakotay without her was a haunted man, and herself without him was barely more than the remnants of her temper with a uniform: that uniform represented the career she'd obviously thrown away because she needed to keep him alive.
How could she turn into that? Were those her only two options? Becoming a bitter old Admiral who'd outlived her best friends or an instrument of the Borg's vendetta against humanity? There had to be another way, a better way, some fate less ominous.
The turbolift paused to let her out onto the bridge, and she stared instead of moving. Tom was at his station, and Harry was moving towards Chakotay's chair. It was quiet. B'Elanna had her hands full down in the shuttle bay examining the Admiral's shuttle and everything was operating efficiently. She could take the time to think.
Chakotay's hands caught her half a second before she crashed into him. "Sorry, captain," he offered apologetically. "I guess I'm wearing my cloaking device today."
Another joke, and she still could barely summon a wan smile. "Perhaps you are." She removed herself from his protective grasp and started towards her ready room. "I don't suppose you'd except lunch as an apology."
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I have plans."
Perhaps it was for the best, Kathryn thought. She was cursed to be alone, no matter what she did."I wish to alter the parameters of our relationship," Seven announced over their lunch.
Chakotay set down his glass, folded his hands in his lap and waited for her to continue. He couldn't help feeling guilty turning down Kathryn's invitation. She'd been walking a knife's edge since that version of him had arrived from one possible future, and the brittle, almost caustic presence of Admiral Janeway wasn't helping. He hadn't seen her in person yet, but she'd been jarring enough over the viewscreen.
"In what way?" he asked Seven, dragging his thoughts away from all incarnations of Kathryn Janeway.
"I believe I have begun this relationship in error," Seven said, her expression strained. "I have made a mistake."
"Seven-"
"Chakotay," she interrupted. "I believe there is a flaw in this pursuit of a romantic relationship. The flaw lies within my reasoning, and I am fully responsible for the necessary termination of this relationship in its current form."
"It's not you, it's me?" he asked slowly, trying not to smile.
"I believe that is a common form for a break-up to take," Seven replied calmly. "I apologise for any confusion on your part. Romantic relationships are very perplexing for me, and though I believed you were the party I found most desirable, it appears I was in error."
He'd do her little good if he forced his disappointment on her or reacted badly, so Chakotay tried to approach the situation as if he were an outside observer. "Would you care to elaborate?"
"I don't believe I can," Seven answered regretfully. "It would be inappropriate for me to comment on the feelings of a third party when that party has not made her feelings known."
"Discuss it with me in the hypothetical," he suggested, quickly forgetting his disappointment as his curiosity took over.
She pondered that, and as she thought, Chakotay realised there was only one person on Voyager she would protect this carefully. Seven had never been good at reading facial expressions and he buried his surprise as deeply as he could.
"Your suitability as a romantic partner is not something I have determined for myself. I believe I substituted the feelings of someone else for my own. I am not comfortable identifying the individual, and I am very sorry if I have hurt you. I would like us to return to being friends if that is still possible."
"Of course," he assured her gently. "Sometimes you have to try a relationship to see if it'll work out, and it doesn't. No one's lost anything, especially not our friendship." He'd been flattered she was interested in him; Seven was lovely and intelligent and reminded him a great deal of Kathryn.
Who loved him. Which was a thought he'd tried to put out of his head. They needed the space between each other to function, Kathryn couldn't risk her heart again, it would ruin the chain of command: he had a list of reasons a parsec long.
"May I ask who you are attracted to?" Chakotay wondered, settling back in to finish the picnic to spare them both the discomfort of leaving it unfinished.
"I believe I am attracted to Ensign Lang," Seven explained coolly. "She appears to have an attraction to me as well, and has invited me to share her holodeck time. We will be attending a simulation of the Hoobishan baths on Trill."
"I've heard good things," he said, trying not to chuckle. "Ensign Lang is a lovely young woman."
"I find her sense of humour acceptable, her dedication to her work adequate, her conversations stimulating and her hair very distracting," Seven finished the last with her dazzling smile. "I believe that is an acceptable foundation to being a relationship."
"I wish you and Beth the best," he promised, grinning around a strawberry. "If you have any questions about dating a human."
"I may ask your advice," Seven replied, clearly relieved he was taking it so well. "The Doctor's thoughts can be unpredictable and Tuvok is frequently perplexed by human dating rituals. While the captain is very wise, and I rely on her counsel in many things, I do not believe this would be appropriate to discuss with her at this juncture."
"Fair enough," he agreed. If Seven was more interested in women, it was entirely possible she had a bit of a crush on Kathryn. He couldn't blame her. Kathryn was entirely captivating and she'd been uniquely honest with Seven. "Good luck," Chakotay offered. "Beth Lang is very fortunate."
"Thank you," Seven acknowledged with surprising warmth. "I also feel fortunate.""I remember that scent. Lavender, isn't it?"
The voice jolted her out of her thoughts. Kathryn startled, sitting up in her bath. She reached for her towel, panicked by the intrusion, and saw her future self.
The Admiral handed it over and held it above the water. "The computer let me in."
Kathryn frowned, cursing the computer mentally. "Of course, it did, you're me." Instead of taking the towel, she retreated into the back corner of the tub. It was her after all, modesty seemed a little out of place.
The admiral folded the towel and set it neatly aside. "Apparently Voyager isn't bothered by two of us existing," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bath. "Nor two Chakotays."
"I don't think the ambassador goes around walking in on his younger self," Kathryn retorted, trying not to feel as violated as she had when Phoebe had gone through her things. This was another her, not a sister, but the trespass was similar.
"If it's any consolation, someday you'll wish you looked that good again," the admiral promised darkly. "Though we haven't aged too badly, all in all."
Kathryn let her hands sink back beneath the surface of the bubbles. The water was still warm and she'd been just starting to get the idea of the Borg out of her head. "What do you want?" she asked softly. Maybe if she answered the question, the admiral would leave and she could start lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as she dealt with her inevitable insomnia.
"What did he tell you?" the admiral asked, trailing her hand through the bubbles. "The ambassador told you about his timeline, didn't he?"
Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, Kathryn nodded. "Not in detail."
"And he told you about mine?" the admiral pressed. She let water drip from her fingers slowly back into the tub instead of drying her hand.
The heat of the bath had become oppressive instead of comforting; Kathryn sighed and put her hand out for the towel. The admiral handed it over politely, but made no move to avert her eyes.
"No offence," Kathryn replied, "but both of them sound like something I want to avoid." Standing up from the bath, she felt more exposed than simply nude. She wrapped the towel around herself quickly, crushing piles of bubbles against her skin and dragging the corner in the water. Activating the drain, she stood in the bath while the water vanished back into the ship's reclamation system.
"So what will you do?" the admiral asked, locking her gaze.
Kathryn wasn't sure when she'd become so cold, but it was disconcerting to see herself so pitiless. She removed the small towel that held her hair and let it fall damply to her shoulders. "I don't know," she answered honestly.
Dragging her hand through her hair, Kathryn stepped out of the bath onto the cool deck. Water ran down her feet and pooled around her. The admiral was still watching her, and she gave up on modesty to dry herself. Rubbing the towel across her shoulders, she frowned towards one of the futures she was trying to avoid.
"Your timeline ends without Seven or Chakotay, and I can't imagine losing Tuvok like that." She dried her left arm, ignoring the admiral's eyes. "Chakotay's seems to work out better, at least, for everyone but me and the thousands of people I kill."
"It's not you," the admiral reminded her. Kathryn thought she heard a trace of pity.
"Isn't it?" she argued. Working the towel down her torso, she voiced the argument she'd been making internally all evening. "Locutus of Borg wasn't Jean-Luc Picard, but it was Picard's knowledge of the fleet that got that cube as far as it did. A queen, or whatever it is that I become, wouldn't be me, but it would be my knowledge of the Federation, my insight, my very essence that they used to kill."
The cold knot in her stomach she'd been hoping the bath would ease away roared up into her chest. Holding the towel wrapped loosely around her waist, Kathryn shivered at the thought. "I can't let that happen. I'll take my chances here in the Delta Quadrant if it'll prevent that from happening."
"But the crew..." the admiral finished for her, her voice softening for the first time since she'd seen Chakotay in sickbay.
"How do I keep them from their homes?" Kathryn asked herself. "How can I ask them to spend any more time away from their families just so I don't-"
"Become a soulless monster?" the admiral interrupted. "I don't know. Chakotay, Ambassador Chakotay, hasn't been able to tell me about that death. He seems to have come all this way, just to warn you not to listen to me." She folded her hands, staring down at her entwined fingers as she searched for words.
"I'm no Borg, but my experience was no picnic. You'll lose members of your crew. I was so tired during one memorial service that I forgot Ensign Latimer's name. It was the fourth one in as many days and I just couldn't-" The admiral shut her eyes and the forcefield that held her emotions in check snapped down. "I am not what you wish to become, Kathryn. I'm a bitter old woman who barely speaks to her family. No matter how much they try to drag me away from myself, I hold on to the loneliness so hard that I'll never be able to let it go."
"I can't become Borg," Kathryn whispered, clutching the towel to her chest. "I will not. I can't follow your path." She turned away, passing the admiral on her way to the bedroom.
The admiral knew her too well and followed her. "You'll stay here," the admiral realised. "You'll send Voyager home in the transwarp hub, follow the plan that worked in Chakotay's timeline but remove yourself from the equation." She leaned in the doorway of the bedroom, tone dripping with disdain. "And you'll do what? Take the Delta Flyer back to Quarra and see if that engineer still wants you to move in? Live in the mining colony with Neelix and the Talaxians? Study stellar phenomena until you make a mistake and mercifully get yourself killed?"
"All of it's better than the Borg," Kathryn reminded her. Dropping the towel into the laundry, she pulled her pyjamas over her damp skin. "If Chakotay taking the crew home prevents either of the futures I know about from happening, then it sounds good to me." The admiral was silent then. Once she was dressed, Kathryn turned, looking for the admiral.
The elder woman waited in her living room, arms crossed over her chest as she looked out at the stars. "Your plan might work," she offered, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But, it's a big galaxy and if the Borg can't find you, I'm sure they'll just find someone else. Admiral Necheyev, T'Sorna, or Seven of Nine herself. The Borg don't give up."
"Neither did I," Kathryn corrected. "At least, not now. I don't know if I do in the future." It was almost too cruel, but her frustration had hold of her.
The admiral's shoulders squared and she stiffened as if she'd been reinforced with duranium. "It's easy not to give up when he's standing there beside you. When he's gone, when you've watched him die slowly for years, giving up is all you have left."
onto part III