Dangerous Meditations

Pleasant.

That was the perfect word to describe Chakotay's surroundings. The grass on the hill bent softly in a stray breeze, the sky emanated a warm blue, and water glinted in streaks of golden sunlight from the lake beyond. Warmth resonated through him in waves. He was comfortable, relaxed, safe. He was happy. He hadn't felt this good in months.

Even a simple act such as breathing was a joy. The air tasted fresh and clean; he expanded his lungs to the point of bursting with it. He drank the air. It was so easy to breath, to fill himself up with the smell of flowers and grass and the sweetness of undisturbed natural beauty. He couldn't get enough, and he knew there was no limit to how much he could take.

Chakotay glanced at his animal guide. Without a word or gesture, he knew where to look and exactly what the creature was thinking. The vision, the surroundings, Chakotay's feelings, were all a gift. An overwhelming gift.

As visions with his animal guide went, this one rated among the best. He wanted to share it, to indulge the sensations further by giving them to someone else. The company of his guide was fulfilling to an almost painful degree. It was too perfect to keep to himself.

Perfect. Pleasant.

He turned his head, dazzled for a moment by rays of clean, pure sunlight and water. White spots danced before his eyes. The glares momentarily blinded him, but not before he sensed something... else.

Odd....

Chakotay abruptly jerked out of his meditative state. The last feeling of slight unease slipped away before he could grasp it, and he once again experienced that wonderful sense of happiness as he forced his eyes open. A deep gulp of air, sucked in with slight disappointment that it wasn't as fresh as the air in his vision, helped to clear his head. It always took a moment to reorient himself when a vision quest was interrupted.

His door chime rang again.

That's what had interrupted him. His first thought was that it might be someone he could share the recent vision with. The desire to share was still so strong that he almost neglected to replace his akoonah and sacred items in his medicine bundle as tradition dictated before he opened the door. Chakotay quickly packed his medicine bundle together in its leather pouch, careful not to jostle the separate items, but in too much of a hurry to spend time with the memories each piece invoked. He shook his head once more for good measure, then climbed to his feet. Come in, he called.

B'Elanna Torres strode through the door, then stopped just short of plowing into him. She crossed her arms and regarded him with a decidedly mischievous glint in her eye. Don't tell me, she said, half teasing. You were so caught up in reports and regulations that you lost track of time. Or else you were daydreaming again and lost track of time. Or else --

His eyes squinted at her in furrowed mystification. She was speaking too fast, and he couldn't understand more than every other word she said. Or else he was still meditating and she was a bizarre incarnation of his spirit guide sent specifically to torment him. That scenario didn't fit with the rest of his vision, but it was certainly consistent with his guide's typical behavior. B'Elanna, what are you talking about? he interrupted.

B'Elanna continued to regard him, now with exasperation. It's 2100 hours, she announced.

Chakotay was still so distracted by his vision that the announcement was lost on him. And?

The crossed arms dropped as her indignation increased. She waved a data padd in his face. He'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed she carried it. The discussion group? she said. He continued to stare at her blankly. You know, books? Talking? Endless debates about what the author really meant? So much boredom that I'd never go again if I didn't owe you that huge favor?

Now Chakotay remembered. He nodded and smiled. Yes, the book discussion! He wondered how he could have possibly forgotten. B'Elanna had been complaining about the group since he had encouraged her to join the month before. She began each weekly meeting by loudly voicing her opinion that reading books for the sole sake of discussion was a stupid waste of time. At first he had wondered why she didn't quit the group, whether she owed him or not, but now he thought she secretly enjoyed the arguments concerning individual interpretation of the literature. At least it got her out of Engineering for a few hours a month. The other members of her department had each thanked him several times since she joined.

Not wanting to discourage her hidden enthusiasm, he said, Hold on; I'll be ready in a minute. He jogged into his bedroom to quickly change out of his uniform.

You didn't really forget, did you? B'Elanna called after him. Not after you've been dragging me to this thing for weeks!

No, I didn't forget! he protested with a laugh.

Chakotay, she chided as he returned to his sitting room, wearing loose-fitting clothes and carrying his shoes. Her arms were again crossed as she regarded him. You're a rotten liar.

He grinned. I was meditating, he explained.

She visibly restrained herself from snorting. The sound turned into a short, hacking cough. You look good for a guy who's been sitting with his legs crossed tight enough to cut off the flow of blood to his feet. She paused in surprise, and scrutinized him more closely. In fact, you look great.

I feel great, he admitted as he pulled on his right shoe.

Contrary to Chakotay's cheerful expression, B'Elanna scowled. Lately you're always so happy after you meditate. I don't get it.

He tried to cover his grin, and failed. Maybe that's because my animal guide likes me. When she shot him a dark look of disgust, he relented with a smile. All right, I'll stop teasing.

That was a cheap shot, Chakotay.

He laughed, but didn't deny her accusation. It had been a low dig at her expense. As an apology, he decided to explain. The truth is it was a... Now that he had the opportunity to share his vision with someone, he didn't know how to explain his experience so that she might understand. How could he find words to describe the vision and the feelings it had invoked? The air, the smell, the all-encompassing lift of joy...? He searched and grasped for words, a phrase, an expression, and found nothing that was adequate. ... a really good vision quest, he ended lamely. But his look of relaxed contentment expressed what his words could not.

B'Elanna's brows rose to meet her ridges. I guess so, she observed. She slowly sank into a chair, an appreciative sigh escaping her lips. You look like -- she started to say, then stopped herself, and color rose suddenly to her cheeks.

It was such an unusual reaction from Torres that he felt compelled to hear the rest. Like what? he prodded when she didn't finish.

She cocked her head, the blush receding as her typically sarcastic attitude reasserted itself. Like you just had some really great sex, she said.

This time it was Chakotay's turn to choke a laugh. He didn't blush in turn, though it was a battle to push the sensation down. When he had enough control to speak, he regarded her with amusement. Prying into my private life, Torres?

What private life? she asked rhetorically, still slightly sarcastic. We live on a small ship with Neelix. There's no such thing as privacy.

There is if you don't walk around with a look on your face that advertises all your recent clandestine activities, he suggested.

Well, we're not all as good as you are at that cold look of indifference.

This statement startled him more than her previous comment about sex. I look indifferent? Is that how I come across?

She sighed and threw out her hands. Chakotay, I'm teasing! It's a joke! Can't you take a joke?

He relaxed, though he didn't entirely believe her. He chose not to press her for the moment. Only if it's about my private life, he teased back.

Do you really have one?

Chakotay expelled a sigh of sudden aggravation as he pulled on his remaining shoe. Did he have a private life, as in something to hide, something to hold close, something that wasn't common knowledge to every member of the crew? No, not unless something's going on and whoever else is involved forgot to tell me about it.

Too bad, she quipped with a smile that made her look and sound more like Tom Paris than she would ever admit. So tell me about your vision, she said, and settled back comfortably into her chair.

Reminded again of his recent experience, Chakotay smiled softly. The simple recollection made the tension melt away, and he breathed easier. But the recycled air of Voyager was a poor imitation of the freshness he'd experienced moments before. That had been incredible, more like....

B'Elanna interpreted his features. It was like sex, she accused, amazed.

Chakotay shook his head. The smile slid across his lips again like a memory. No. This was better. This was like... like... roses, he said, surprised by the correctness of the comparison. He breathed with the word, his memory supplying the feel, the smell of the air from his vision, the need to share --

Roses? Her voice was harsh and derisive compared to his soft, reverent tones. What's that supposed to mean?

The memories deserted him at the sound of her voice. He looked up, and had to smile. I guess that sounds silly, he admitted. But.... But the captain would have understood.

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head, Chakotay, B'Elanna said, wryly affectionate. She rose to her feet. As if she could read his mind, or see into his soul, she offhandedly commented, If I didn't know you better, I'd say you either needed to see the doctor, or you're in love. But I know better.

A flash of fear and embarrassment flooded through Chakotay, followed by an equally strong burst of relief. B'Elanna had been teasing again. She didn't really know anything for certain, though she knew him well enough that she ought to suspect the true state of his emotions concerning....

He refused to follow his thoughts down that path.

To cover a stray thread of wistfulness, he looked up at B'Elanna and smiled widely. It was a good vision quest, he repeated, impressed at his ability for duplicity. While growing up, he'd often been accused of being too open, too ready to display his inner emotions. Now it seemed as if he had too easily accomplished the opposite. He didn't know which he preferred.

Chakotay stood and said, Well, let's get going. We don't want to keep the group waiting.

B'Elanna snorted again. Of course we don't.

He grabbed a data padd containing the chosen work for this week's discussion as he headed for the door. Just pretend every group member is an inductor coil, and the book is the warp core, he suggested to her. That should help you relate. And try not to laugh at Baetart's choice of books this time; I think it really intimidates her when you laugh like you did last week.

B'Elanna grinned at the memory. Then she shouldn't choose such stupid books, she suggested back.

Chakotay paused in the corridor just outside his door. I'm going to tell her that you want to try more ancient classics for next week --

If you do that, Chakotay, she said, threatening him with her own data padd, I promise I'll--

What's wrong, Torres? he asked amiably, interrupting before she could really get rolling. Can't you take a joke?

Two days passed before he had the chance to once again retrieve his medicine bundle from its place high up on a shelf in his quarters and contact his animal guide. He had every intention of asking for guidance concerning a dispute between two very angry crewmembers, but as soon as he touched his akoonah and intoned the proper invocation, he effortlessly slipped back to the vision of pleasant, perfect joy. The scene was slightly different this time. He noticed more tall, leafy trees than before, making long, cool shadows stretch across the land. The lake sparkled even more brilliantly, its water rippling ever so slightly in the breeze. The sky was such a shocking deep blue that Chakotay had to blink against its brightness. Sunlight poured over the landscape in pulsating waves. He bathed in its warm light, suffused in contentment.

Chakotay sensed his animal guide's smile, and he smiled back. It seemed as if the whole world smiled with him, maybe even the whole universe. His muscles relaxed until they felt like liquid rivers of strength, flowing with his movements, expanding his lungs, supplementing his already sharpened mind. He walked through the bending grasses of this world, then he ran, and it was as if he could run forever. Everything here was for him, because of him. It was his perfection.

He wanted to share it, had to share it. The sensation was overpowering. It was against his nature to keep something like this for himself. The feelings of happiness and well-being could be so beneficial to so many....

Chakotay glanced around. The light was so bright that he had to squint against it in order to see very far. He didn't remember such a strong glare from last time, but he ignored the discomfort, intent on finding someone to show his discovery to. Maybe, if he was very lucky, he could find --

But no. There was no one, not even his animal guide. The landscape of his vision remained empty, barren, and he suddenly felt just a hint of abandonment. It was like a tickle, or an itch on his back, right between his shoulder blades where he couldn't quite reach. The breeze still blew against his cheeks, but now it seemed less friendly, less perfect.

The change was harsh and abrupt. White hot light glared from the sun, the sky arced over him, the air pushed into him, and he couldn't breath fast enough to keep up with it. It was too much for him, too big, too big --

Chakotay fell out of his vision with a cry. He crashed heavily back to reality, still sitting cross legged on the floor in front of his medicine bundle. His heart pounded against his ribs, and his limbs felt stiff and sore, as if he'd been in this same position for hours. Grit clung to the corners of his eyes. His head hurt. He could feel his blood throbbing through his skull in time with his heartbeat. Fear started to worm through his consciousness. But fear of what?

He looked swiftly around his quarters. They were empty.

Daily life continued on Voyager with unremarkable regularity, a sharp contrast to his alternate vision world. In between the duty calls and meetings and meals and conversations, Chakotay recalled as much of the visions as he could. A great many details remained clear in his mind, even after time had elapsed. His memory of the emotions was equally as vivid. The feelings alone were certainly enough to cause him an amount of distraction. At the close of the morning briefing the next day, he discovered that they were distracting to the others on board as well.

He was thinking about the different shades of grass that he'd seen in his vision the night before and hadn't noticed that the captain had called an end to the meeting. The slap of Tom Paris's hand on his shoulder woke him from the pleasant train of thought.

Hey, Chakotay, Tom greeted as the rest of the senior staff were leaving the conference room to return to their posts. I hear you've been doing some vision questing the last few days.

Chakotay swung around in his chair to regard Paris with a look of suspicion. Was Tom listening in on his quarters now? How did you hear about that?

Tom chuckled softly and sank into the adjoining chair. No, I didn't put a surveillance camera in your quarters...

I wondered, Chakotay interrupted, smiling as well. Such a stunt coming from Tom would have surprised him, but he wouldn't put it beyond Tom's capabilities, either.

Tom's grin widened. B'Elanna told me. She mentioned that she had interrupted you a few nights ago, before that book group you two are in.

That's right.

She said that you were so far gone in this vision that you looked like --

She exaggerated, Chakotay interrupted again before Tom could continue. Tuvok and Captain Janeway still stood near the door, discussing a recent tactical update. He didn't feel up to explaining any misconstrued comments Tom might make about the state of his life, either real or imagined.

Tom glanced at the two officers out of the corner of his eye. He put a fist up to his mouth to cover a sudden cough that swallowed a couple of choice words, but he honored Chakotay's subtle wish. Yes, well, I couldn't help but notice that you still look impressively relaxed. He leaned nonchalantly into the back of his chair. His words were innocent, but his posture was all innuendo. Is there something to this meditating thing that you've been keeping to yourself? Some secret elixir that wipes away years of Delta Quadrant fatigue?

Chakotay took a deep, calming breath. If he looked as relaxed as Tom claimed, how was it that Tom could ruin the mood in only two minutes? Tom, he started to say, his tone one of worn patience, but Tom was protesting before he could go any further.

No, no, Chakotay, that's not what I mean! Tom laughed. I think I'm giving you the wrong impression.

Chakotay eyed him speculatively. If you are, it's your own doing. Do you sit like this when you're talking to the captain? He gestured at Tom's slouched, indolent posture.

Tom straightened quickly. Come on, Chakotay, I thought we were talking about meditating, not how I sit!

Chakotay's lips rose in a half grin. I just wanted to make sure... and maybe save you a few sharp reprimands in tomorrow's briefing. Tom grinned with him this time. What do you want to know? he asked.

Tom leaned forward, his posture now showing the depth of his interest. B'Elanna said... well, okay, you know what B'Elanna said. And now here you are, and you look great! I haven't seen you so relaxed since.... He stopped himself to think. His brow furrowed. I don't think I've ever seen you this relaxed, he admitted.

Chakotay's patience was wearing thin again. Tom, what's your point?

Tell me about it, Tom said abruptly. Tell me about your vision. I want to know what it is that you saw that makes you look so... happy. He said the last word with a mix of awe and wonder, then rushed to continue, And I want to know if I can go there too.

Chakotay chuckled a little at the magnitude of Tom's request. Tom, I don't think you know exactly what you're asking for.

Sure I do. I mean, how hard can it be? Isn't meditating just sitting around with your legs all knotted up, thinking deep thoughts?

Chakotay laughed again. I see that you have been talking to B'Elanna.

Tom sat back, embarrassed. I'll admit that I'm probably not the usual type of guy who's interested in this kind of thing... but you helped the captain, he pointed out hopefully.

I helped the captain find her animal guide. That's a little different.

Tom looked taken aback. What's an animal guide? B'Elanna didn't say anything about any animals.

Chakotay sighed. It was too early in the morning for discussing the distinctions between meditating and vision quests, especially since he had spent much of the previous night thinking about his own visions. But Tom was waiting for enlightenment. He couldn't turn his back on him now. Let me put it this way, Tom; meditating is what Tuvok does, and Vorik, and even Kes tried it, I think. You stare at a single object, concentrating only on that object. It helps to clear your thoughts and find your center, your balance.

Tom shook his head, clearly confused. How is that different from what you do?

He sighed again, giving himself time to collect his thoughts before speaking. When I meditate, I'm looking for my center, yes, but I'm also looking for answers to difficult questions, or guidance with a problem I'm having. That's where my animal guide comes in.

Tom couldn't help himself - his nose wrinkled just a bit. But isn't that what friends are for?

Chakotay smiled. Yes, you're right. Friends are very valuable in helping you with the tough situations. But my people believe that there are some things that friends can't help you with. You need to struggle with them alone. A vision quest often puts things in perspective in a way that nobody else can.

So you've been doing this vision quest then, Tom clarified, and at Chakotay's nod, he asked, What's it like?

Images of the soft warmth of that land rose up to fill Chakotay's mind, and for just a second, he imagined that he could taste the sharpness of the air on his tongue. Then it was gone, leaving only a shadow memory to dissipate in the flat smell of Voyager's recycled air.

Wow, Tom breathed. He was watching Chakotay's face closely. B'Elanna wasn't kidding when she said you looked lost in ecstasy.

Chakotay choked. What?

Tom just shook his head. That's the most emotion I've seen you display since I dragged you off that stairwell in the Ocompan underground. And then you were just showing pain, he said dismissively. This... He shook his head again. Wow. He stared at Chakotay like the commander had gone supernova. That must have been one hell of a vision.

You could say that, Chakotay said dryly, momentarily at a loss for a better description of his experience. Now that he thought of it, lost in ecstasy seemed as accurate as anything else he might come up with.

Tom went on, So, did this vision quest help you find whatever you were looking for?

That was something Chakotay hadn't considered. The usual impetus for a vision quest was to find something, but he'd been so preoccupied with the power of the visions that he hadn't taken the time to think about what he should be looking for. He must have appeared puzzled, for Tom prodded,

That is what you were doing, isn't it? Searching for answers, solving problems, taking care of all those hard, first officer-type dilemmas?

In a thoughtful voice, Chakotay said, I hadn't thought of it that way.

Tom snorted inelegantly. Then, forgive me for saying this, Chakotay, but what's the point?

Chakotay shook his head, again at a loss for words. Tom was right; if a vision quest didn't at least address his concerns, what was the point? Why hadn't he thought of this before?

On the other hand, this wasn't his typical vision quest. His guide hadn't even been with him at the end of his second vision, a disturbing fact in itself. That had never happened before. Usually she stayed with him from the moment he entered a quest until he was ready to leave. Why would she abandon him like that?

Maybe you were just hallucinating, Tom suggested when Chakotay remained silent.

Chakotay shook his head. There are no hallucinogens involved. It's more like a state of suspension than seeing things that aren't there. A journey of sorts.

Tom's brow wrinkled again. A journey to find answers that aren't there. The wrinkle deepened. Sounds complicated.

It can be, Chakotay admitted. It's not always easy to identify and unravel the message your animal guide is trying to tell you.

So what message is your guide telling you?

Now it was Chakotay's brow that wrinkled, half in puzzlement and half in surprise. I don't know.

Just then Tuvok's voice from the comm system interrupted any further discussion. *Mr. Paris and Commander Chakotay to the Bridge.* His voice was noncommittal, but that didn't mean anything; Tuvok was always cool and calm, even under the worst of circumstances. He might be calling them to the Bridge for anything from the beginning of a duty shift to an imminent attack by an unknown, hostile alien force.

The summons broke through Chakotay's distraction. He felt as if he'd just woken up from an unscheduled nap. He'd been so involved in the discussion and his visions that he'd been completely unaware of his surroundings. He glanced around the empty conference room. He hadn't even noticed when Tuvok and the captain had left. Such behavior was hardly acceptable from the first officer. Chakotay pushed thoughts of his visions to the back of his mind, though it was hard. He couldn't afford to let himself be preoccupied while on duty. Once he started pulling himself together, he found that instinct took over.

Both men stood up, instantly alert. It was a reaction schooled by the countless dire situations that had typified Voyager's journey through the Delta Quadrant. It was safer to assume the imminent attack scenario than to saunter onto the Bridge unprepared.

Tom headed for the door of the conference room, but he paused for a minute to turn a smile on Chakotay. I still say that talking to friends is just as good as all this vision questing and animal guide stuff. At least you don't have to interpret any hidden messages... especially if it's B'Elanna or Seven of Nine you're talking to, he ended ruefully.

Despite the additional puzzles still threatening to distract him, Chakotay smiled at Tom's remark. I'll agree with that, he said and followed him onto the Bridge.

Lost in ecstasy.

It was an accurate account of Chakotay's state of mind. He performed his duty encased in a fog, capable of giving only a third of his attention to anything around him. Most of his mind dwelled solely on his memories of the visions. Flashes of that world accosted him at the most inconvenient of times. He almost slipped twice, once with Tuvok and once with Ensign Wildman, but he was able to recover his wandering attention before they noticed. Fortunately, the early part of the shift had light duty, and the remaining hours promised more of the same. Nothing of any importance happened, and Captain Janeway spent the first half of alpha shift in Engineering, discussing another new propulsion theory with Lieutenant Torres and Lieutenant Carey. If anybody would have seen through his charade, it would have been the captain.

As it was, only Harry Kim called him on his lack of attention, and then only for neglecting to issue his authorization for yet another new project. Everybody was too preoccupied with their own concerns to pay much attention to his preoccupation.

Harry's commentary was reduced to a single observation. That must be an interesting report you're reading, Commander. He indicated the commanding officers' computer monitor. The screen was raised in its upright position, displaying the duty roster from several shifts.

Chakotay had been trying to read through the duty logs for the last hour, without much success. But he certainly wasn't going to admit that. He only replied, There's always something interesting happening on Voyager.

Harry was in the process of polite agreement when they both heard Tom Paris snort and cough from his position at the helm. Chakotay glanced up, but Tom was concentrating on his controls and didn't look around to check for any reactions.

Maybe you should see the doctor about that cough you seem to have, Mr. Paris, Chakotay suggested lightly.

Tom rubbed his mouth, ostensibly to cover another slight cough, but in reality to disguise a huge grin. Oh, no, I'm fine, Commander. Don't worry about me.

Very well. Chakotay sighed, fighting down his own grin. Paris's favorite pastime was finding out the details of everybody's lives, then enjoying the spectacle of keeping it all to himself while his victims squirmed. Except Chakotay refused to squirm. Besides, he had nothing to be afraid of; Paris didn't know enough about his secrets for him to worry. Nobody did.

Chakotay put his thumb print on the padd as Harry patiently awaited the necessary authorization, and that was that. Nobody else noticed his divided attention, or how he continually stared at monitor screens or view screens or out the observation windows without really taking in what he was looking at.

He found himself consumed with looking inward to puzzle over the possible meaning of his visions and what Tom had said about messages connected to his meditations. As he pondered, he often experienced that powerful feeling of perfect happiness that had permeated the majority of his time spent in the vision world, but now his well-being was marred by a nagging desire to find some meaning behind it all. The more he puzzled, the less he understood. He'd never had so much trouble discerning his animal guide's messages before. The indescribable beauty and rapture of his visions, mixed with the almost painful need to share it, added to his guide's absence made for an alluring, bewitching enigma. But what was the point?

His duty shift wore on, and eventually Tuvok relieved him for a lunch break. As Captain Janeway hadn't returned from Engineering, he bypassed his usual meal with the crew in the mess hall and retreated to the blissful silence of his quarters the moment he was free. There at least he could be sure that nobody was surreptitiously watching him daydream away a duty shift. He planned to force himself to read some of the supply reports the captain wanted to discuss later in the day, then catch a light meal alone. He had just enough time to get through everything before a scheduled meeting with the two warring crewmembers who had been the intended subject of his previous night's vision quest.

But he'd only made it through two of Neelix's long, overly dramatic accounts of the crew's food consumption when his eyes landed on his medicine bundle tucked discreetly away on its shelf. It was in his hands before he recalled making a conscious decision to cross the room and retrieve it. His desire to again visit that special place and to experience the feelings of happiness were too strong to ignore.

This time was different yet again. He didn't start his journey on the planet, surrounded by the lake and the trees and the warmth as he expected. Instead his field of vision was filled with white. At first he couldn't make out any distinctive shapes or objects. It was just a field of white.

Abruptly the whiteness separated into layers. The layers took on definition and shape. Some were a harsh grey, hard and fearful. Some fluffed out in soft puffs, darkly edged with subtle shades of color. Some were of a stark white so pure it hurt his eyes to look at them. The layers melted into each other, moving and undulating like an ocean of waving white. He felt himself slowly move with the waves, saw them pass beneath him in an ever quickening tempo until he was flying fast over the sea. The air flowed through him, filling him and holding him up, forcing him to fly faster and faster until he suddenly realized what the white layers were. Chakotay looked up and out, gazing across his world at an unending expanse of clouds.

The second he realized what he was looking at, he fell. The whiteness surrounded him, clinging to him in an unpleasantly wet shroud as he passed relentlessly from layer to layer, unable to stop or even control his descent. He broke through the cloud cover as abruptly as he had entered it. Confident that there was no danger of him crashing to the ground below, he eagerly looked down, needing to see the world of enchantment that he was seeking, wanting to make sure it was real, that he was there.

The familiar scene opened slowly before him, as if the clouds were reluctant to let go of him. The lake hovered into view, but this time there was no sunlight glinting off its smooth, shiny surface. Angry waves broke against a previously unnoticed rocky shoreline, and the water in the center was a slate grey, impenetrable. It mirrored the sky, a low ceiling of unfriendly, steal grey storm clouds. The storm whipped up the water from the lake and the dirt from the land. A stiff wind twisted the bending grasses into grotesque shapes and snapped the tree limbs back and forth in painful arcs. Chakotay heard the groans and cracks from the trees as some limbs broke off and were carried away by the wind or hurled to the ground where they splintered into pieces, like shards of glass. The flowers in the meadows tossed in the wind, battered against the ground they fiercely clung to. In the lulls of the raging wind, he fancied that he could hear them crying.

The joy was gone. He felt no pleasure, or even a desire to share this destruction. The perfection, his perfect world, drowned in the pelting rain of the storm. The trees tore from the ground and flew like missiles through the air to impale themselves on rocks and outcroppings. The clouds spewed lightening that licked out to explode against the ground, scarring the once beautifully green landscape. The lake swirled and climbed into a tower of water until it was so high that it crashed onto the plain and crushed the grass and washed it all away. Noise boomed and thundered across the world, making the ground shake and tremble and shrink. Horror filled him, and fear burned itself into the unbreathable, stench-filled air.

Chakotay felt himself slip closer to the storm until he was on the verge of being swallowed up by the maelstrom. He clawed against the air, pushed into the wind, but the storm was right behind him, just over his shoulder, waiting for him, dogging him. He called out to his animal guide for help, but he gagged on the foul air and choked. He couldn't breath. He couldn't talk. He was suffocating painfully, a vise squeezing his chest tighter and tighter and tighter....

A roar split his ears, and his world cracked in half. Fire seared the air and singed the clouds. It burned and consumed everything. In moments there was nothing left to share.

Chakotay wrenched out of the vision. He gulped in air, the flat, recycled air of Voyager that now tasted sweeter than anything in that vision world. He felt dizzy and nauseous and slick with sweat. He couldn't see. He had trouble just opening his eyes. He blinked rapidly, and rubbed them. They teared instantly. He wiped his wet hands on the leg of his uniform.

When his eyesight cleared and he was once again aware of his surroundings, he glanced around his quiet, serene quarters. The peace was almost a joke after the blasting power of his vision. He was slightly surprised to see everything in its place; the desk was covered in neat piles of data padds, the couch and chairs were clear of mess, and only the padds with Neelix's reports were scattered where he'd left them on the table. His medicine bundle still lay spread on the floor, undisturbed, in the order he must have laid it out in front of him. His fingers gently cradled the akoonah...

... and he had a sudden, flashing image of another hand, one much smaller than his, with slender, delicate fingers, hesitantly placed on the same akoonah in the same way...

Kathryn.

The image was gone as quickly as it came. But Chakotay didn't take the time to puzzle out how a memory of the captain's hand was connected with the destruction of his vision world. Thinking of the captain had reminded him that in his real life, where his world was secure and safe from unexplained annihilation, he had several important meetings. The idea of meetings was incredibly mundane after the horror of what he'd experienced, but just then he was glad to grab at anything that resembled normality, even meetings about complaining crewmembers and Voyager's food supply.

Chakotay briefly glanced at the chronometer on his computer terminal as he once again gathered his medicine bundle together without properly exploring the items that were part of the collection. He instinctively knew he would have to hurry if he was going to make his first scheduled appointment....

He blinked and took a closer look at the chronometer. Three hours had slipped by since his release for lunch.

Three hours! He was astonished at the amount of time he'd been caught in his meditation. He'd never meditated for so long at one stretch. Three hours? That meant he'd missed the first meeting completely and was in danger of missing his conference with the captain. He hadn't missed a meeting in his entire career as first officer. For a moment he was so appalled that he could only stare stupidly at the computer. Then his brain started to slowly churn, and he sprang to life.

He would have to reschedule the crewmember war until a later time. The involved parties wouldn't be happy about it, but that was life in the Delta Quadrant. In the meantime, he needed to contact Janeway before she sent Tuvok out with a search party.

He jumped to his feet and simultaneously slapped his combadge. Chakotay to Janeway. His voice cracked and his knees shook. He felt weak after such a long time spent curled up on the floor in meditation. Maybe Tom was right on that count too, he thought with a twist of sardonic humor; it really was about knotting up your legs so that you couldn't walk straight.

*Janeway here,* came the prompt reply. Her voice, distorted to a low, slightly hollow sound by the comm system, was a wonderful thing to Chakotay's ears. *Commander, I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost or jumped ship or something.*

No, he answered readily, though his voice broke again. Usually he would have replied to her teasing with a little banter of his own, but he needed all his energy to keep himself upright and walking towards the door of his quarters. I -- he started to explain, but what could he tell her that would excuse his lateness without bringing up the vision quests? He didn't feel strong enough to go through everything right now, and he couldn't mention some of it without telling her the whole story. I apologize for being late. I got a little sidetracked while I was meditating. He grimaced; that was an understatement!

Her voice was still teasing as she said, *Meditating, huh? Well, I can't argue against the benefits of that. I won't court martial you... this time.* Her mock threat was evident even over the comm line.

He was in the corridor now, heading for the nearest turbolift. Movement had helped him regain part of his strength, and he managed to answer with a smile, I appreciate your generosity. I'll be right there.

*No hurry,* she said. *Janeway out.*

No hurry, she'd said. It was a good thing. Chakotay didn't think he could hurry even if Voyager was under attack and she wanted his authorization to self destruct the ship sometime in the next ten minutes. He thought it might take him at least that long to make it to the Bridge.

Now that he had contacted Janeway, he could relax and concentrate on walking and looking like nothing was wrong. But the minute he didn't have his attention fixed on another problem, he was bombarded with images from his latest vision. The horror he had battled against since waking in his quarters assaulted him with a vengeance, knocking the breath out of him. He needed time to adjust to what had happened, to accept that he'd lost something, and to try to figure out what it all meant.

He just couldn't. His memory was too strong, and it was all so horrible. How could there be any meaning in that? And where was his animal guide? Was she dead?

That thought sent a chill knifing through him. His heart skipped several beats as the chill twisted deeper into him, stealing his breath again. He arrived at the captain's ready room practically gasping. He no longer cared if he made a spectacle of himself as he crossed the Bridge. He just wanted to sit down somewhere before he fell down, and he would rather fall down in front of the captain than in front of anybody else currently on Bridge detail. He compromised by falling into one of the chairs before her desk. He'd never felt so grateful to sit down.

Chakotay! Janeway hadn't looked up as he'd crossed her ready room, but she could hardly miss the sound of a man falling into one of her chairs.

I'm sorry! was all he could choke out. He leaned over and put his head down, but the images crowded into him. His vision swam and his jaw tightened by degrees until he thought he might get sick. He didn't mind falling into a chair, but he refused to be sick in the captain's ready room. With a monumental force of will, he pushed all thoughts of his vision to the back of his mind, giving him room to concentrate on taking deep breaths and getting his heaving stomach under control.

It slowly worked. The sensations relinquished their tight hold on him and gradually subsided. The nausea passed, his heart slowed, and it was much easier to breath. A moment later he was able to lift his head and take a drink of the water she had replicated for him.

Don't drink it so fast, Janeway instructed softly. Take it easy. You don't want to get sick.

No kidding, he thought with the meager amount of humor available to him. But the water was so cool and inviting to his parched tongue that it was hard to drink only small amounts. After a few more slow sips, he was able to say, I'm fine now.

Sickbay, she ordered next, and without further consultation, reached for her combadge.

He stopped her. No. I'm all right.

You are not all right. A minute ago you looked like you were ready to lose your lunch all over my carpet.

I didn't eat any lunch, he said before realizing how childish that sounded. He didn't have the energy to rephrase the comment.

Janeway wasn't impressed by the comment either. Chakotay, I order you --

Captain, the doctor can't help me.

How do you know that?

I'm not sick. It's just a... a bad reaction to a... vision quest. The images surfaced again, fast and strong, and his breathing grew shallow before he could push them back again and regain control of his reaction.

Janeway's hand dropped from where she'd been fiddling with her combadge. She knelt before his chair, leaning on the arm rest as she regarded him in deep concern. It was as if years of protocol and command dropped away as she gently observed, Chakotay, I've seen you react to unpleasant vision quests before. But I've never seen you this upset. Something's wrong --

He put a hand on hers. At any other time he would have shied away from such personal contact between the first officer and the captain, but the events around this time were special. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with his own pain, he might have been delighted to realize that it was the first time he and Janeway had successfully overcome the barriers of their ranks to openly display the friendship they shared.

He explained, I haven't had time to think about what I saw and sort it out yet. That's all it is. Nothing's wrong.

She glared at him fiercely. How can you say there's nothing wrong when you come in here looking like this? You look awful. She leaned back on her heels. You've never lied to me before, Chakotay. I don't like it any more than you would if I lied to you. Now, what's wrong?

He had forgotten how persistent she could be. She hadn't been at him like this since he'd built her that bathtub. Under the circumstances, he couldn't dredge up a smile for the memory.

She continued to glare at him expectantly, and with a wave of relief, he decided to tell her what he could. It was awful, he admitted. Gripping his free hand into a fist and digging his nails into his palm helped to keep the vision at bay so he could talk about it. At first it was incredible. But then... horrible, awful... very awful. And somehow it's all connected to other visions I've had, and my animal guide is... gone.

Gone? Kathryn was clearly flabbergasted to hear that. Gone where? I thought once you had an animal guide, it was always your guide.

I don't know. Chakotay shook his head, frustrated with his lack of knowledge. I didn't pay close enough attention when the elders instructed us on vision quests -- maybe this is part of the lesson, maybe this has happened before. It's just never happened to me.... His voice caught again, and he had to stop.

Kathryn was there, leaning forward, her hand comfortingly on his. It's all right, she assured, though she had no idea if that was true or not. You'll figure this out. You always do. It'll just take time.

Chakotay looked at her. He had to look down, as she was still kneeling in front of his chair. He considered the stray fact that her feet were probably starting to fall asleep. She didn't look like she minded in the least. At that idea, he suddenly felt much better. Just the thought that she was willing to forgo a few moments of comfort for his sake did wonders for his outlook. Things didn't appear so bleak if Kathryn believed there was hope.

He took a deep breath, and nodded. You're right. There has to be some kind of reason for this. I just haven't made the connection yet.

Maybe you should try contacting your animal guide again, she suggested. It can't hurt.

He wasn't so sure of that, but he didn't wholly disagree with the idea. I have to say I'm not thrilled about the possibility of a repeat experience, but that's probably the only way to get any answers.

And you're good at answers, she interrupted, teasing him into better humor again with a light, easy tone. Her mouth curved up into a knowing half smile.

What she said was true in this case; he was the only person on board who had handled problems from every crewmember, including the captain. It was well known that his advice was sought out with more regularity than any other crewman acting as shipboard counselor. In every sense, he was their counselor.

He smiled at her joke, then sobered again. The only way to find answers is to look for them. I just need some time to think, Chakotay added. Calmer now, he leaned back in his chair. His brain was already at work on the problem, replaying details of the visions to find the thread of a message that might be lurking beneath the obvious surface. Before he could predict it, his movement broke the invisible line of contact between him and Kathryn.

An awkwardness descended on them. Even in his preoccupied state, Chakotay was aware of it. It had been years since they'd shared such an intimate time with each other, and neither quite knew how to end it without embarrassing themselves.

Kathryn stood and crossed her arms. Chakotay rose as well, still a little shaky but feeling much stronger after their talk. When he met her eyes again, the captain looked back.

Janeway said, Considering the circumstances, I think we should postpone our chat about food consumption and supplies.

He laughed a small laugh. I would appreciate that.

We'll take this up again tomorrow -- check your schedule and let me know what time will work for you.

I will.

You are officially off duty for the rest of the day.

Chakotay started to protest out of habit, but she held up a hand to halt his words. As he looked at her hand, he was struck by another flashing memory of her fingers spread hesitantly over his akoonah, the entire image pervaded by an atmosphere of trust.

It was quickly gone again, and he had to hurriedly refocus his attention to catch her next words. No arguments, Commander. Take the time to do what you need to do. I'll see you at tomorrow's senior briefing.

He sighed, and nodded. What she said made sense. He doubted he would be of much use on duty, anyway. It was all he could do not to continually stare at the wall, lost in thought. Tomorrow, he echoed in agreement. Then he turned to the door, forgoing the need for a formal dismissal. She started to retreat behind her desk. Before she could complete the action and put the physical barrier between them, replacing their invisible barriers as well, he turned back to say, This was a big help. Thank you, Kathryn.

Caught between the connection they had just shared and the work relationship they were more familiar with, she paused. Balanced uncomfortably on the edge of her right foot, and one hand on the corner of her desk to keep from falling over, she returned her gaze to him.

Kathryn smiled. You're welcome, Chakotay.

But despite Kathryn's advice, Chakotay didn't unroll his medicine bundle right away. He looked at it when he returned to his quarters, then studiously avoided it for the rest of the day. What he needed now more than further meditation was a distraction. He would never be able to figure out his visions if he forced himself to do so. Chakotay knew that his brain simply didn't work that way. He would create a satisfactory meaning instead of discovering the real meaning, and that was more dangerous than remaining ignorant.

So, to take up time, he read another report. He cleaned his quarters until every piece of furniture was lint free and shiny. He rescheduled the meeting he'd missed earlier that afternoon. He recorded his duty log and personal log on the computer terminal set up on his desk, then he purged his unnecessary files out of the computer system. He reorganized the files in his replicator, manually cleaned the lavatory, and fixed the back of a picture frame that he'd been meaning to work on for at least a month.

As he worked, his mind flickered back and forth between thoughts of his visions and those concerning his talk with the captain. He went from feeling the urgent need to share to the sight of her looking up at him in her ready room, from the sunlight on the lake to the smell of the grass burning in the storm, to that repeated image of Kathryn's hand on his akoonah.

But though he tried to let his thoughts wander freely through the problem, he felt that he'd made no progress by the time the supper rotation arrived. After several more hours of activity meant to leave his mind free for problem solving when he was obviously not solving anything, he was frustrated beyond endurance. He'd spent most of the day alone, avoiding what he really needed to do. If he wanted to find any meaning in all this, he would have to attempt to contact his animal guide again.

Chakotay was surprised at the feeling of trepidation that flooded through him. In the past he'd experienced many emotions in connection with his medicine bundle and meditating: curiosity, scorn, gratitude. But he'd never been afraid of it.

Still, his desire to put an end to his distraction, to find the message behind the visions and make a connection between everything that had happened was stronger than his fear. He closed his eyes for just a moment, then reached for the medicine bundle.

The transition of his consciousness from the reality of Voyager to the dream world was swift and relentless. Before, Chakotay had always been aware of that transformation as if it were a physical action, like stepping through a door. This time, there was no decision on his part, no choice in the matter at all. He had barely brushed his fingertips on the akoonah's surface when he felt himself pulled into the vision quest. There was no time to properly address his people's ancestors or implore them for help. He was once again in the world he sought, and there was no turning back.

To his profound relief, the vision world was intact. It was as if the storm had never happened. The lake was perfect, its water a deep, azure blue so clear and beautiful that he could see all the way to the lake's smooth, sandy bottom. Flowers perfumed the air. Warmth from the sun poured over the land, not too hot, but he was still perfectly comfortable in the shade cast by the trees. When he walked, the grass sent up wafts of an earthy smell, both wet and dry at the same time, with an overlying hint of healthy growth.

He stood in the shade of one of the tall trees and watched the branches bend and sway gracefully in the breeze. The same breeze played through his hair and gently caressed his cheek. The sensation made him feel cozy and content, sleepy enough to find it hard to resist taking a nap right there under the tree. It was almost too perfect for words. He smiled, and saw his animal guide smile with him.

He wished there was somebody here to share this with. It was too beautiful to keep to himself.

The world changed with that thought. The shadows increased and lengthened to dance across the grass in the building wind. The color of the water in the lake turned darker so that he could no longer see to the bottom, and the sun glared off its rippling surface. Chakotay shaded his eyes with his hand, but the light was so bright that he had to shut his eyes against the harsh whiteness.

With a sinking heart, he opened them a moment later to squint into the light. He needed to find his animal guide, just to make sure she was still with him. He had to know what this meant, why he felt such a strong desire to share this experience when his own guide wouldn't even stay with him.

It was as he feared; he couldn't see his guide anywhere. Braving the sun, he stepped away from the protective cover of the tree and headed toward the lake, where the water was quickly becoming opaque. The harshness of the sunlight grew until he couldn't stand much more. Then, without warning, the light popped and its intensity diminished by at least half, as if someone had ordered the computer to dim the lights. It grew so dark so fast that he had trouble adjusting his eyes to keep up with the change. When he could see relatively clearly, he turned frantically in every direction, but could make out no sign of his guide.

The storm descended on him with a frightening suddenness. One minute the sky was clear, the next it was full of roiling black clouds, a mass of evil that spewed lightening indiscriminately across the ground. The tree he'd been standing under, sheltered from the sunlight just a moment before, was the first to explode in a burst of hungry fire. The lightening reached out with what was almost a gentle touch and the tree blew into hundreds of sparks and splintered pieces. Cries of fear assaulted him, and he swore they were coming from the tree and the leaves and the ground. He watched in helpless horror as the complete fury of the tempest ripped at the remaining trees, destroyed the grasses, and sucked up the water from the lake. If there had been anybody with him to share the vision's previous glory, he could never have protected them from the equally insatiable need of the storm.

The expected roar of noise followed quickly, thundering over Chakotay in a powerful wave of sound. He fell to his knees. The wind tore through him, eating him, wresting the private thoughts from his mind, leaving him an empty shell. The air burst into flame, and scorched his lungs. He couldn't breath. There was nothing left to breath. He would die here, alone, abandoned, nobody to share with, nothing left to share, ever again....

The vision collapsed in on itself. Chakotay felt himself falling, faster and faster. He was out of control in a place without control, no rules, no guides, no help.

He landed softly, disoriented and off balance, but unhurt. He could breath again, and he sucked in the sweet air, filling his lungs with it, not caring if it had been recycled a thousand times already, not caring if every crewmember on Voyager had breathed it a thousand times already. He was just ecstatic to be home, to be safe on board....

He opened his eyes, and saw that he was right back where he'd started the vision, standing only a few paces from the tree. His animal guide stood next to him and smiled. She was gleeful, happy, overflowing with joy. The feelings transferred to him, and within seconds he was being overwhelmed by the same emotions yet again; the joy, the contentment and coziness, the thrill of beauty and the need to share, that urgent, powerful, all-encompassing need to share.

The vision built to the stage of blinding brightness, and he was eaten by his guide's seeming abandonment. The storm came, swift and deadly, destroying everything. The world cracked apart, and Chakotay fell, faster than before, faster than he'd ever gone, his velocity unchecked and unstoppable. He landed with a small jolt, once again unhurt, but feeling sore and confused. He had only a second to gather his strength before the vision started again.

Chakotay moved from glory to pain to devastation. The pace of the vision accelerated until he felt as if each section lasted only a minute, then a second, then a microsecond before he felt the next portion's assault. Soon even the happiness felt like an attack. There was too much joy and nobody to share it with, nobody to help. He could find nothing here for him.

His guide never said a word through any of it. She remained enigmatically silent, a ghost of her former incarnation, present yet completely out of reach. Chakotay tried to call to her, tried to get her attention, tried to tell her that he didn't understand. But she just smiled and vanished and reappeared over and over again, always one step beyond him, unreachable.

Chakotay lost track of how many times he'd survived the vision, how many times he'd lost his guide and died in the storm. He wanted this to end. He wanted out. But he didn't know how to get out, didn't even know if there was a way out. He was caught in the cycle of his own mind, trapped by himself.

He was falling again, hard and fast, and a powerful jolt struck him as he landed this time. Pain shot through him. He forced himself to ignore it and take a breath, to steal his mind against the next onslaught while he had the chance. Just as he reached the threshold where he knew the vision would start again, he felt an unfamiliar presence. Someone was in the vision with him.

He was so surprised that he lost the breath he'd just gulped in, and was unprepared when the vision swept him away yet again. He searched for the presence during each stage of the vision quest, but he didn't sense anybody besides his animal guide until the storm dumped him once more with a painful jolt in the empty place of before and after. Then he felt it immediately, a change in the air, something that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He turned all around, looking, seeking, but the vision grabbed him again and he lost track of the sensation.

The next time, he was ready. It was hard to concentrate after the burning and raging storm, but he started his search the second he was aware enough to do it. He felt the presence immediately. It was close, and familiar. Was it his animal guide, finally prepared to stop the vision cycle and explain the reasoning behind all the madness? It didn't feel like his animal guide. He reached desperately into the darkness, and sensed that he was only a small distance from touching whoever it was when the vision had him again. Despair faded into the joy of the vision.

But he'd underestimated the other's tenacity. Contact between them must have been closer than Chakotay had thought; he felt a tendril of the other's presence slip into the vision with him. He tried to focus on it, but the sensations were too powerful, and he couldn't quite make solid contact with it. Still, he grasped at even this tiny disturbance. Their tenuous hold on each other was enough. Chakotay was dumped into the darkness again, and he instantly knew who it was.

It was Tuvok. Finally, someone to share his experience with.

Chakotay felt so relieved that he almost didn't think to reach out a hand for the Vulcan. Their fingers barely met, but the hold was enough. The vision, when it came for him, hesitated at the addition. Chakotay took the opportunity to solidify his hold on Tuvok.

But Tuvok's grasp on him was not as strong as it should have been. In a flash of inspiration Chakotay realized that just the one trip through the vision had been detrimental to the Vulcan. Tuvok couldn't quantify all the emotions the vision entailed. Even Chakotay had trouble dealing with such strong sensations; he could only imagine how horrifying, how positively overwhelming, it must have been to Tuvok.

*Commander --,* Tuvok whispered, the strongest voice he could manage. He said nothing more.

But Chakotay suddenly felt a tug on his mind, and it was at odds with the pull of his vision. Tuvok wasn't part of his meditation, as he'd originally thought. The Vulcan was outside his mind, acting as a link that he could follow to find his way back. Tuvok was trying to draw him out of his meditation. Outside, in the real world of Voyager, he wasn't alone.

Chakotay didn't hesitate. He followed the tug he felt, fighting against the insatiable pull of the vision. The storm started to build behind him, then to scream and tear at his hold on Tuvok. He resisted with every ounce of strength he possessed, and catapulted himself, hard, directly along the path that led towards Tuvok. He started to fall again, drawn with amazing force, down, down, spiraling fast, the descent out of control....

He crashed back into his own body with a bone jarring jolt. He slid to consciousness, slipped back out, then re-established his hold on reality. He felt Tuvok's fingers probing deeply into the skin along his left cheek and forehead and chin; a mindmeld. His lifeline. He was vaguely aware of the doctor scanning him with a tricorder. The whine of the instrument was so loud that it made his ears ring. The ringing made him suddenly aware of a pounding headache. It felt like his head was on the verge of exploding. His heart beat erratically in his chest, and he couldn't seem to get enough air. His body felt slick with sweat, his skin clammy. Somebody beside him was supporting him, holding him upright, but he couldn't maintain the contact. He was sliding down into unconsciousness again, only this time he was aware of the fact that his body was going with him.

Chakotay teetered sideways. He distinguished the sight of a cloth spread out in front of him, discreetly covering the secret items of his medicine bundle. Then he gave in to the new, seductive pull of sleep. He collapsed, his body folding up and falling to the right. Janeway caught him.

END PART I

Contents || Part 2