*Janeway to Chakotay.*
Surprised, Chakotay glanced up from the sketch pad he held
in his lap. The summons had interrupted an intense session of
outlining several new creations for a possible sand picture, and
he'd been so absorbed that it took him a moment to withdraw from
the creative process enough to answer her. Chakotay here,
he
managed at last.
There was a pause, then Janeway's voice came hesitantly across the comm line, *Are you all right, Chakotay?*
He smiled. It was unusual for him not to respond
immediately to a hail, and she knew that. In spite of the doubts
and misgivings he occasionally harbored about Janeway, he had to
admit that she knew him well. Yes, I'm fine,
he answered,
and firmly set aside his pad so he could give her his full
attention. I was just drawing.
*Oh,* she said in complete understanding. He could hear the smile in her voice as she went on, *I'm sorry I disturbed you. Do I still get to see the picture when you're finished?*
One thing Kathryn had always shown interest in was his
pictures. Even now, years after he had introduced her to the art
of sand painting, she enjoyed seeing his creations. She claimed
they were relaxing. It was a pity she didn't think the same
about the artist. He answered, Yes, of course you get to see
it. I like to know what you think.
*I'll even promise not to be critical... well, not too critical.*
Could Kathryn Janeway not be a critic? I'll believe it
when I hear it,
he said and grinned. Now, what can I do for
you?
*Actually, I was just about to take a break from reports and replicate some dessert. I wondered if you'd like to come over and share. I know replicated isn't as good as the real thing, but I haven't been able to convince Neelix to grow anything decent in aeroponics yet... except coffee, of course.*
Chakotay smiled. Heaven help the ship if something
happens to those coffee plants, he thought. What did you
have in mind?
he asked aloud.
*Oh, maybe something with raspberries. Or cherry liqueur. Or maybe.... What are you listening to?*
You can hear that through the comm line?
he asked in
mild amazement. Chakotay liked to play music softly over his
quarter's sound system when he began a new project; music often
helped him think. But he hadn't expected it to traverse the
ship's comm system.
*Yes. It sounds familiar... but I can't quite place it....*
He could tell that she was listening intently. Mira's
Theme,
he supplied. From... um, I can't think of the
longer work -
*From Universal Revelations!* she finished triumphantly for him. *I always liked that holonovel. But I haven't heard the music since....*
She stopped, and Chakotay wondered if she was trying to
recall that piece of information too, or if she was trying not to
recall where she'd last heard it. Either scenario was possible.
Probably not since -
*New Earth,* she quietly finished for him.
Chakotay couldn't tell if that was a pleasant memory for
her. He expected that she still interpreted their shared
experience as a painful reminder of losing something very
precious to her - Voyager. Usually she refused to even
discuss the months spent stranded on the alien planet. He didn't
understand why she hid from those events, but whenever he
attempted to broach the subject, she inevitably closed herself
off from any lengthy conversations by inventing an excuse to be
somewhere else. Now he was taken off guard by such a casual
reference from her. That's my guess,
he said, trying hard to
sound casual too, for her sake.
In a soft, almost reminiscent tone, she said, *I remember. You always played it when you were making something.* She paused to laugh lightly. *Though I bet you had trouble inducing the birds to sing it while you built my bathtub!*
He chuckled with her. I could never quite get them to
stay in the right key.
She laughed softly again, then the nostalgic moment passed, and she returned to her initial invitation. *Are you interested in dessert?*
Yes,
he said, absolutely. What are we having?
Chakotay began putting away his drawing utensils and cleaning the
table of the data padds he had placed there. With any luck, he
wouldn't have time to work more that night. He hadn't seen
Kathryn beyond the typical Bridge encounters since their
conversation in Sickbay the day before. A nice long talk over
dessert was just what he was in the mood for, especially if she
was willing to finally talk about New Earth.
*I don't know. I can't decide. What would you like?*
Surprise me,
he ordered. I'm on my way, so don't take
too long. Chakotay out.
Mere moments later he was standing in front of the captain's quarters, listening to the chime of the call button. She met him at the door, a plate of something very decadent in each hand.
That smells good!
he declared, and took the one she
offered to him.
Quick, get in, before everybody else smells it in the
corridor and comes running for their portion.
Kathryn stepped
aside and he followed her. The door closed silently behind them.
What is it?
he asked as he used his fork to carve off a
piece. The first bite was so impressive, he didn't care what it
was called after that. He just hoped she remembered the recipe
so he could program it into his own replicator.
Something something with cream and... something. We have
Harry Kim to thank for it, that's all I know. He came in one
day, all mysterious, and programmed my replicator. He told me to
order code forty-seven, and not to say a thing to anyone. He
claimed that if word got out that he had this program, he would
never have a life of his own again. Then he left. I forgot
about it until just now.
It's clear that I need to have a talk with Ensign Kim.
Think you can get the program for yourself?
I hope so!
Chakotay grinned, thoroughly enjoying
himself. The dessert was better than he'd ever imagined a
replicator could produce, and Kathryn seemed relaxed and
cheerful. Apparently the new skin agreed with her.
She caught him looking at her. With eyes narrowed in
suspicion, she accused, I don't trust that smile of yours.
What are you thinking about?
That the mix of doctorly care and good food can do wonders
for starship captains.
Chakotay, don't remind me!
she complained. She put her
half empty plate down with a thump on an end table, then fell
onto the nearby sofa with another irate thump. I've been
restricted from coffee until we figure out what Neelix did to
make my skin shrivel up like a bad sunburn. Even at his worst,
Neelix never made me shed before,
she added with an unhappy
sigh. I don't suppose they've found the answer in the last few
hours and then forgot to tell me?
she added hopefully.
Chakotay shook his head. Not that I know of, unless they
forgot to tell me too.
He gave her a nod of commiseration and
suggested, Why don't you replicate some coffee. Surely the
doctor can't object to that.
I'm out of rations,
she reminded him. Kathryn heaved
another sigh, then retrieved her plate and took a large bite in
the hope that the dessert would help a sudden craving for a cup
of hazelnut with a touch of honey. It didn't.
What about coffee ice-cream?
he suggested next, but
spluttered a laugh when he saw the dangerous look that crossed
her face. No, I don't suppose that would be the same thing,
he hurried to say.
Suddenly she laughed too, and had to reach up a hand to
catch the sweet syrup that dribbled down her chin before it had a
chance to drip on her uniform. She stood, still laughing, and
glared at him. Stop!
But more dripping syrup cut her off.
Kathryn, would you like a cup of coffee?
he asked,
giving in to the unavoidable. I have plenty of rations in my
account; unlike you, I don't have an addiction.
Only if you want one,
she politely told him and wiped
her chin, then thought it would be a good idea to helpfully add,
It would go well with the dessert.
I'll take that as a yes.
He crossed to her replicator
and made his request while Kathryn headed for her bathroom.
I want to ask you something, but first I'm going to wash
my hands... Oh, make mine hazelnut!
she called to him at the
last minute. With honey. And go ahead - I'll be right out.
No, I'll wait.
She disappeared, and Chakotay shook his
head, amused, then made his request again to correct the order.
One with sugar, one with honey.
A second later two steaming
mugs appeared. He gathered them in his hands and placed them on
the low table in front of the view ports. Despite what he'd
promised, he took a slow sip of the hot liquid while casually
browsing through the data padds she had stacked on the table. If
she needed his opinion, it probably had something to do with
whatever was on one of those padds.
She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd claimed to be going
over reports - it looked like she'd reviewed several ongoing
projects, and was in the process of authorizing several more.
Off to the side she had placed a padd with the data he and Harry
had managed to gather concerning the new buffer matrix for the
transporter. Somewhere between all the other reports and the
tasks of a regular duty shift, she had found enough time to add a
good deal to their original ideas. Does she ever stop
working?
he muttered to himself in amazement. Aloud he called,
Kathryn, you need a hobby - you work too much!
He grinned at
the humorous images that came to mind just at the mention of
Kathryn Janeway giving any serious consideration to not working.
She would have to be paralyzed first, he thought.
Chakotay had expected her to reply in some saucy manner, but she didn't. There was no reply at all, though he was sure she could hear him through the closed bathroom door. The silence was unlike her. The skin on the back of his neck suddenly prickled. He glanced up. Now that he thought of it, she was taking an awful long time just to wash her hands.
Following his instincts, he crossed to the door leading to
her bedroom and stopped, aware that he was close to what might
become a very embarrassing situation if he wasn't careful.
Kathryn?
he called. There was still no answer. Is
everything all right?
Suddenly a muffled thump came from the bathroom, followed by the soft, unmistakable sound of something sliding down the length of the door.
Chakotay didn't need any further encouragement. He was at
the door in an instant, pounding on the panel with his fist.
Kathryn, answer me!
He paused, waiting for a reply, but
again none came. Kathryn!
This time he didn't bother to
wait. He overrode the door commands with a hasty jab at the
controls. The door slid aside.
Kathryn fell through the opening and lay in an unmoving heap at his feet. A pungent, sweet-smelling cloud of some kind of gas escaped with her, filtering quickly through the cleaner air in her quarters. Chakotay gagged as he struggled to pull her far enough from the confines of the small wash room to reach the purer air. He stopped just beyond the bedroom door.
Kathryn?
he coughed, leaning over her, panic so close to
the surface of his control that he would have had trouble
speaking anyway. She didn't respond to him at all. Dazed,
Chakotay did his best to make a fast assessment of her condition:
her skin was pale, her cheeks sheened in sweat, and her hands
were marked with huge blisters. A slow pulse beat sluggishly
against his probing fingers, but at least she had one. The
minute he registered that she was still alive, he slapped his
combadge so hard, he bruised his chest. At the time, he felt
nothing but the fear.
Chakotay to transporter room! Lock onto the captain's
signal and beam her directly to Sickbay! Now!
He had just
enough presence of mind to fall back out of the transporter's
reach before the beam took effect. Kathryn's figure shimmered
for a heartbeat, then vanished.
The room was deathly quiet. For a moment he was too numb to
do anything but sit. Then he breathed, coughed on the foul air,
and climbed shakily to his feet. There was a vague thought to
order the computer to ventilate the air in her quarters, then a
thought to shut down the ventilation altogether, but he couldn't
quite grasp the concept. It didn't matter. Instead he touched
his combadge again, much more gently this time. Chakotay to
Tuvok.
The Vulcan's response was wonderfully prompt. *Tuvok here.*
Chakotay didn't waste breath on explanations. Meet me in
Sickbay. It's Kathryn.