Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Voyager. I’m just taking a few of the characters for a little outing.

Summary: As Kathryn Janeway slowly recovers from her illness and looks forward to her return to the Federation, she decides to take care of some unfinished business first.

Note: This story takes place about three weeks after Pegasus.

The Farm (a Belle Colony story)

by mizvoy

With the approach of spring, the slow, quiet days of winter on the farm were coming to an end. Marilas was busy with dozens of chores, from letting out clothes for the children, to planning the household garden, to deciding which crops to plant, and to rounding up the cattle that roamed the meadows in the hills surrounding the farm. All this was in addition to her usual duties of running the household, cooking, cleaning, tutoring children, and doing mountains of laundry. She was relieved that Kathryn was gradually growing stronger and that Chakotay was there to help her take care of the outdoor work.

She stood over the sink, washing the last of the breakfast dishes when a blond toddler who was playing with crayons on the kitchen table asked, “Is Aunt Kathryn coming downstairs for awhile today?”

“Yes, I’m sure she is,” Marilas answered, giving the girl a smile. The children loved the woman who was gradually recovering her health, and Marilas knew the joint effort to help her had unified the children and given them something to occupy their minds during the cold, dreary winter months. “I think she’ll probably sit in the rocker on the porch for an hour or two after lunch.”

“I’ll let her use my colors, if she wants to.”

“That’s sweet of you, honey. But I imagine she’ll just want to rest. She gets tired coming down all the stairs from her room.” Marilas returned to the dishes, but her mind wandered back to the first day Kathryn Janeway was with them.

The farm was in the grips of last great storm of the winter, its fields and buildings transformed into a wonderland by the six-inch snow that had fallen the day before. Marilas had been notified the previous day to prepare the room for another patient, and the children, home from school because of the weather, had scurried to help her.

Chakotay beamed onto the front porch of the farmhouse with Kathryn in his arms, and Marilas met him at the front door, following him as he carried her up the stairs and into the tiny chamber that had been his own recovery room following his brush with death the previous year. He laid the woman gently on the bed and then opened the blanket that had been wrapped around her. Marilas could have cried at the frailty of her new patient, but her heart had nearly broken when she realized that this was the Kathryn that Chakotay was so devoted to.

“You must . . . be Marilas,” Kathryn mumbled, her blue eyes luminous with fever. She was so pale that her freckles looked as if they’d been painted on her face, and her bones looked as if they could break through the surface of her skin at any moment. Even so, Marilas could see that she would be a stunningly beautiful woman when she was healthy. “Thank you . . . taking me in . . . have so many . . . children.”

“Nonsense,” she replied as she helped Chakotay slip the shivering woman into the bed. “Tyee is part of our family, and, because he loves you, so do we.”

Tears welled in Kathryn’s eyes as Chakotay tucked her in, and Marilas stood back and watched as he knelt down and embraced her, cradling her to his chest as he wiped away her tears with his handkerchief. “The doctor will be here soon, Kathryn. Go to sleep, and you’ll feel better when you wake up. And Marilas is right. I do love you. Surely you’ve known that I’ve always loved you, all these years.”

“I . . . love you . . . .” Kathryn was becoming incoherent as he laid her on the pillows and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. In spite of her obvious exhaustion, she reached up and touched his face. “I . . . meant . . . tell you . . . so long.”

“Right now, you need to rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Kathryn fell asleep instantly, and when Marilas saw that nothing was left to be done, she went to the kitchen to find Chakotay something to eat. “You have to keep your strength up, Tyee. She’s counting on you.”

“I almost lost her, Marilas. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that had happened.”

He was still sitting beside the bed when Marilas returned, so she set a bowl of vegetable soup in front of him and then stared at him with her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe that you’ve never told her how you feel about her. Why haven’t you?”

“She was the captain,” he shrugged as he spooned the soup into his mouth. “And the time was never right.”

Marilas sat down on the foot of the bed with a sigh of resignation. “Maybe someday you can help me understand why her job kept you from telling her that you loved her.”

He grinned, a mischievous look on his face. “I’ll let Kathryn explain it to you. I’m not really sure I understand it myself.”

Marilas thought back over the last weeks. Chakotay had spent every possible moment with Kathryn, even to the point of setting up a cot in her room so that he could be there if she had a bad dream or became restless in the night. When she was too weak to feed herself, he put every bite of food in her mouth, and even after she was stronger, he continued to take all of his meals with her, often cooking special dishes himself or having favorite foods replicated by one of the Caritas vessels in orbit overhead. When Kathryn started feeling better, he brought the children to visit her one or two at a time. Kathryn would cuddle a small child on her lap while Chakotay read them a bedtime story, or he’d bring up some of the older children so that she could help them with their math or science homework.

Although the two of them seemed close, Marilas never saw any indication of a more intimate connection, and she found herself concerned about that. At first, she attributed their restraint to Kathryn’s fragile health, but when it persisted after her strength returned, Marilas worried that the lack of privacy in the farmhouse and the omnipresent tribe of orphans might keep them from acting on their obvious attraction to each other.

And so, she made plans to provide them the privacy and the seclusion they needed.

When Chakotay came in from the fields for lunch, he walked with Kathryn down the stairs to the ground floor and settled her in the rocking chair on the sunny porch. Marilas brought their food to them so they could eat together privately and watched them through the window as the smaller children, who were too young for school, ate around the large kitchen table. Once the kitchen was cleaned and her sisters had shepherded the children upstairs for their afternoon naps, Marilas took her mending to the porch and sat down beside the dozing Kathryn for a few minutes rest.

“I don’t know how I can be so tired when all I do is sleep,” Kathryn said when she opened her eyes and realized that she was no longer alone.

“You were a very sick lady. In days past, most people didn’t survive a serious bout of avlyn fever.”

“I’m no doubt spoiled by Federation medicine, too. Most diseases are cured in days, not weeks, and there is little if any discomfort along the way. I’ve learned a lot from this experience.”

“You would have recovered more quickly if the Toroyan doctor had given you the proper amount and strength of medication.”

“I don’t blame the Toroyans for my illness. They’re unfamiliar with alien species and had seen very few humans before. In some ways, in spite of the illness, I’m glad to have had the chance to see . . . ,” she paused, smiling slightly because she had almost forgotten to use Chakotay’s alias, “I’m happy to spend some time with Tyee after such a long separation.”

Marilas gazed toward the field where Chakotay was busy mending a fence. “Did I tell you about his recovery with us? He was in even worse shape than you were when he arrived. He’d been starved, overworked, and beaten repeatedly during his six months in the mines. For the first few days, he was in and out of consciousness. I’m sure he didn’t remember meeting me, but he always knew who I was. Or, I should say, he knew who he wanted me to be.”

Kathryn shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Marilas continued as if she hadn’t heard her. “He thanked me for each little thing I did for him, and he never failed to tell me how much he loved me. Well, not really me, of course, but one person in the world who could answer his every need, as far as he was concerned. The one person Tyee knew he could count on to take care of him, no matter what.” Marilas turned to her patient with a sad smile. “He called me Kathryn.”

Her comment was met with icy silence and a sudden spike of tension. Marilas realized that she was seeing, for the first time, the remote, inscrutable face of a Starfleet captain. She reminded herself that this was the person who had safely brought a single ship and nearly one hundred fifty crew members across seventy thousand light years on the strength of her character alone. There was titanium beneath her frail-looking surface and an iron will that Marilas had seldom seen in anyone else.

“Is that true?” Kathryn asked, her eyes a steely blue. “Perhaps he was hallucinating.”

Marilas frowned. In spite of Kathryn’s effort to discourage her, she cared too much about Chakotay to back down. “I mean that he saw his heart’s desire, the person his spirit needed with him if he were to find the strength he needed to survive the pain and challenge of his recovery. Kathryn, you’re everything to him, the one person who completes his world. If you return to your home planet, as he says you will, you’ll take the greater part of his heart with you.”

Kathryn looked away, suddenly fascinated by the blossoms of the potted plant on the table beside her, and then she turned back to face Marilas. “Tell me something,” she whispered, gesturing at their surroundings, “is this what you dreamed for yourself when you were a girl? Working from dawn until dusk taking care of fifteen orphans? Running this farm with only itinerant help? Did your ideal future involve cooking three meals a day? Laundering a never-ending mountain of laundry? Wiping drippy noses and changing dirty diapers on someone else’s children? Getting up at all hours of the night to nurse a sick child?” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Did you imagine yourself alone?”

Marilas was stunned by the anguish in the woman’s voice. “Of course not. But, I’ve done what had to be done.”

“So have I.” Kathryn closed her eyes and absently rubbed her forehead with her fingertips of her right hand, half shielding her face from view. “We’re all the victims of life’s cruel sense of humor. Just as you’ve done what you’ve had to do, so must I. I have no choice but to return to the Federation, Marilas, no choice but to complete my duties and live up to my responsibilities, and Cha . . . Tyee understands that. Maybe, someday, he can come home, too.”

Marilas heard the despair in the younger woman’s voice and felt her own heart breaking. “Kathryn, I’m an old woman who has seen too much suffering in my life. You asked me if this is what I dreamed of for myself? I guess I imagined what every other young person does-that I would be the exception, that I would be the one person who would never suffer, never grieve, never face disappointment. I lost everything. Everything. And I learned this-love is the only thing worth dying for and the only thing worth living for.”

Kathryn started to interrupt her, but Marilas kept talking. “There was a man in my life, years ago, before the Cardassians captured and ruined our world. The week before he left for the war, we met for a few stolen days. We had no idea what the future held for us, but we knew that whatever happened, we’d have that time to remember. As it turned out, I never saw him again. They say he was killed in the opening moments of the first battle, and there was a time when I thought I had to die of the pain of losing him.” She paused to wipe her eyes with her apron. “Even after all these years, the memory of those hours has kept me warm at night, Kathryn, and they are as fresh and real to me today as if they happened yesterday. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

Kathryn reached for the older woman’s hand, tears of sympathy in her eyes. “Marilas, I’m so sorry.”

“You and Tyee have a chance to give each other that kind of memory, Kathryn, if you care enough about each other. The love that you share is a rare gift, something to be treasured, even if it’s only for a brief moment. Don’t underestimate how much it means to both of you or how it can make the rest of your life seem worthwhile.” She stood, taking the glass that had held Kathryn’s tea. “Can I bring you anything, dear, before I start supper?”

“No, thank you, Marilas, I think I’ll go up to my room and rest.” Kathryn struggled to stand up, managing only when the older woman boosted her with a hand on her elbow.

“I’ll keep the children downstairs so you can sleep.”

Just inside the door to the house, Kathryn paused, her eyes focused on some faraway object. “Thank you for sharing your memories with me. I promise I’ll keep what you said in mind. And, just so you know the truth, when I return to the Federation, Tyee won’t be the only one suffering. I’ll be leaving the larger part of my heart with him, too.”

“Before you leave, promise me that you’ll tell him that?”

“I promise.”

At sunset, Chakotay stopped at the farm office and cleaned up in his small apartment before he came into the farmhouse for the evening. He greeted the children, who were anxious to share the news of the day with him, and then joined Marilas in the kitchen.
“How long did Kathryn stay downstairs after I left?” he asked her as he helped set the table.

“Maybe an hour.” She glanced up at him, a little anxious to tell him about the tense conversation with Kathryn. “I think she skipped her afternoon nap, though. When I was up there checking on the baby, I saw her sitting by the window.”

“Was she upset about something?”

Marilas looked away. “We talked about the future, and I’m afraid I might have said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“The future? You mean the fact that she’s going back to the Federation soon?” He could see the misery on her face and shook his head with a tolerant cluck of his tongue. Marilas was overprotective of him, yet he knew she just didn’t want him to be hurt.

“I know she has a big job, Tyee, but that doesn’t mean that she can hurt people in the process.”

“By hurting people you mean me. I hope you didn’t make her feel guilty about that, Marilas. I understand why she has to go, and she has enough on her mind without worrying about anything more.”

“I probably should have kept my mouth shut.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I doubt that you said anything that she hadn’t already thought of herself. I’ll go up and see how she’s doing. I was hoping she’d join us for dinner tonight, but if she hasn’t had a nap, she’ll probably be too tired to do the stairs again.”

“I’ll bring up a tray,” Marilas said as he left the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time, arriving at the door to her third-floor room slightly winded.

He found Kathryn sound asleep in the rocker, snoring softly with her head drooping at an uncomfortable angle. He stood watching her for a moment, thinking about all of the hours they’d spent together in that room, starting with the first night.

Chakotay had just finished his soup when Kathryn suddenly cried out in absolute terror and tried to get out of bed, shouting orders as if she were on the bridge. Chakotay caught her, and as he struggled to subdue her, he was amazed at the scalding heat of her skin.

“She’s spiked another fever,” Marilas realized, helping him put her back into the bed. “When is the doctor supposed to get here?”

“He’s on his way.” Chakotay pulled the blankets from the bed. “There’s a hypospray with fluids in it in my bag over there.”

Kathryn’s condition had worsened by the time the doctor arrived thirty minutes later, and after he’d examined her and administered some medication, he took Chakotay aside. “The Toroyans gave her the same strength of medicine they would take, but they didn’t do her any favors in the process. Because their higher body temperature makes it easier for them to recover naturally, the lower dose works well. But a human body is the perfect breeding ground for viruses, and this amount of medication alleviated her symptoms enough for her to be able to function, but not enough to keep the disease from building up a resistance to the drug and getting a death grip on her system.”

“A death grip?” Chakotay repeated, his heart skipping a beat. “Is she dying?”

“It’ll be a close call, but I think she’ll recover, although it will take weeks, not days before she’s able to travel. I’m giving her a higher dose of a stronger medication, which will make her feel even worse for awhile. Be sure to give her regular hypos of fluids. She can get up to use the bathroom but that’s all. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow.”

Chakotay, Marilas, and her two sisters took turns fighting Kathryn’s fever all night and all the next day until finally, near midnight, the fever broke and their patient rested quietly. Chakotay held her in his arms as the women stripped the sweat soaked sheets from her bed and brought a clean, dry nightgown. He put her on the bed gently and tucked her in, so exhausted that he nearly toppled over.

“I’ll stay with her tonight, Tyee,” Marilas told him. “You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep right here,” he answered, leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll bring that cot in from the other room and sleep right next to her bed so I’ll hear her if she needs me.”

“The crisis is past, Tyee, and I’ll keep a monitor open so I can hear any little noise she makes.”

He shook his head. “I’m staying.”

Marilas gave up on dissuading him and concentrated, instead, on making him as comfortable as possible. It was the first of many nights that he kept vigil beside her.

Her gradual recovery had given them time to catch up and reconnect, to renew the special bond they’d had from almost the first moment they’d met. When she became discouraged about her slow improvement, he would hold her in his arms and whisper encouragement until she relaxed against him and fell asleep. For the first time since they’d been alone together on New Earth, they were able to concentrate on each other and explore the depth of their affection for each other. It was no wonder that he found himself more deeply in love with her than he’d ever been before.

He crept into the room and, kneeling beside her chair, pushed a strand of her long hair away from her face. He gave her a grin when she looked up at him in surprise. “Hi, sleepyhead. You should be taking this nap lying down.”

“Hi, yourself,” she answered, groaning as she stretched her back. “I tried it that way, but I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to sit here and watch for you to come home. I guess I fell asleep and missed you.”

He pulled the footstool to the side of the rocker and sat facing her as they talked. “Was something bothering you?”

“Not really. I don’t need as much sleep as I did even just last week, and I’m getting bored sitting around doing nothing. I need to find something to do with my time.”

“Marilas could probably use some help. Maybe you could work on the accounts? Or reorganize her filing system? Iron or mend clothes? Wash dishes?”

“I get the idea.” She chuckled, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “Anything but cook, right?”

“Well, we couldn’t inflict something that dangerous on innocent children.” He gave her a wink as several of the children thundered down the stairs with squeals of laughter, and his smile widened. “I’m amazed you can sleep through noise like that.”

“I’ve come to appreciate the clatter of little feet. I enjoy being part of a big family.” She studied his face. “You like it here, too, don’t you?”

“I feel useful here, and I like the feeling of community the sisters have fostered. I don’t know how Marilas has managed to run this place so well with just her sisters to help her. Winter is a down time, so she’s had time to pamper you, but now that spring’s here, you’ll see that the real work is about to begin, work that is much too demanding for a woman of her age.”

“Oh, I grew up in farm country, remember? I know about farms, and I can see for myself how much work all these children generate, even if they do help as much as they can. I guess she hires people to come in and do the planting?”

“That’s what she does most years. But, this year, because I’m here to help, she’ll be able to save that money and put it toward some other improvements.” He looked out the window toward the hills. “The farm is huge, you know, extending many miles up into the high meadows in those hills. Marilas has asked me to check on the herds that winter up there, so I might be gone for a few days next week.”

“Gone a few days?” She sat up straight, surprised at the news. “Where do you stay while you’re up there? In a tent?”

“No tents. There’s a line camp in the foothills. I’ll stay there at night and spend the days checking on the herd and finding out how many calves we need to round up and have the vet vaccinate.”

She looked out the window, her eyes unfocused. “It would be beautiful up there, I imagine. Lots of sunshine and fresh air.”

“I was up there briefly last fall. The days are short, because the camp is in a valley. It’s quiet and cool during the daylight hours, but downright freezing at night.”

“It couldn’t be worse than a Toroyan ship,” she exclaimed with a chuckle, and then paused, giving him a probing look. “I could go with you.”

“Are you kidding? You’re still weak, and, besides, you don’t like to camp.”

“You said it was a line camp, so there would be a cabin, right?”

“Well, yes, but the cabin is really rustic. It makes a Starfleet shelter look like a luxury hotel.”

She refused to be deterred. “It would do me good to get out of this house and get some fresh air. I’m getting stronger every day, you know.”

“Kathryn . . . you’ll be alone. I’ll be gone most of the daylight hours.”

“You’re gone all day here, so it wouldn’t be that different. I can rest there as easily as I can here. I’ll talk to the doctor, and if he thinks that I can handle it, will you let me come with you?”

He took her hand and studied it, running his thumb over the bones that still seemed too prominent to belong to someone who was close to being healthy. “I know better than to fight you when you’ve made up your mind.”

She cupped his cheek with her free hand, forcing him to look into her eyes. “We both know that I’m going to be leaving soon. I can’t bear to miss out on seeing you while I have the chance, and I don’t even want to give up a few days. Is it wrong of me to feel that way?”

“Of course not. I want to be with you, too.”

At that moment, Marilas arrived at the door followed by one of the teenaged boys who lugged a heavily-laden tray up the stairs. Although she suspected that she’d interrupted an intimate moment, she breezed into the room and announced, cheerily, “We’re here with dinner. And I brought enough for two.”

The subject of the trip was dropped, but Chakotay was sure he hadn’t heard the end of it. And he had to admit that the thought of spending a week alone with Kathryn was something he’d dreamed of for too may years. However, he forced himself to concentrate on the present and let the future take care of itself.

“Welcome to Ballestrude, Mr. Ramos.” After a cursory glance at his credentials and a quick retinal scan by the computer, the port authority worker handed Ramon Cabrera his papers and nodded for him to pass through the checkpoint. “Your connecting flight will be leaving in just over twelve hours, but I recommend checking in an hour early.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Cabrera replied, pocketing his papers and congratulating himself for spending the extra credits for the best counterfeiter he could find. He picked up his bag and then turned back to ask, “Can you tell me where the cheapest hotel is located?”

The woman smiled and nodded toward the front of the station. “That would be the Night Sky Inn, right on the city square. Just take the transport marked ‘Downtown’ and get off at the central station. You can see a sign for the hotel from the front exit of the building.”

“Thanks.” Cabrera walked slowly toward the exit, his body stiff and sore from the long trip on the shuttle. He’d been forced to take a roundabout route to his destination, and this planet on the fringes of Federation space was just one in a dozen stops designed to lose anyone who might be following him as he took the roundabout way to his destination. Even though Starfleet had declared him dead, he suspected that there were elements of that organization that wanted definite confirmation of his demise.

He found a window seat on the transport and spent the twenty minute ride into the city soaking up the familiar feeling of peace and prosperity that permeated planets that were members of the Federation, even ones on the fringes the way Ballestrude was.

He had made a few excursions into Federation space over the years, the latest being his brief visit to Earth to try to warn Kathryn Janeway about the Belle Colony conspiracy, but he hadn’t walked on Federation soil for nearly ten years. He appreciated the difference that Pax Federatica created in a society, for he saw no evidence of hunger, poverty, sickness, or greed. He realized that he was glad to be coming home at last, even if he lost his freedom, and maybe his life, in the process. It was time to do something to avenge his crewmates from the Coquille who had lost their lives simply because they’d done their jobs too well.

He’d been devastated by the news of Kathryn Janeway’s assassination, and he knew that was exactly what had occurred. He remembered vividly the determination in her blue eyes as she refused to back down and let the Belle Colony incident go. At the time, he’d thought that she was crazy to take such a risk with her life, but then he realized that his own life was nothing to be proud of. He lived in hiding, moving frequently, never putting down roots, and for what? To be alone for the rest of his days? Better do to what he could to make things right and reclaim his pride. And so, he started his journey toward the information that would do just that-bring about revenge.

Rain was turning to snow when he walked to the front of the ground transport station and found the hotel’s sign glowing dimly in the deteriorating weather. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and started across the city square at a quick pace. The Night Sky Inn was probably the oldest and least modern hotel in the run down capital of a second class planet, and it was that lack of technology that appealed to Cabrera. They would take paper identification instead of a thumbprint, their files were constantly months behind in their security updates, they allowed payment in hard credits instead of drafts, and they were too desperate for patrons to look too closely at their papers. He soon found himself in a cold, dark room at the back of the building where the heat was questionable and the smell was nauseating.

He hung his damp outerwear over the radiator and quickly unpacked what he needed from his gear. His disguise as a computer repair technician gave him the advantage of carrying a myriad of computer components that might create questions if they were in anyone else’s possession. The benefit was an easy and secret access to a planet’s communication net. He quickly assembled his “spare parts” into the devices necessary to open a secure, untraceable line of communication. He verified the flights he’d planed for his covert journey across the Federation. Secrecy and hiding were part of his life that he had never taken lightly.

He composed a brief note, encrypted it, and saved the draft for one final check in the morning. It had to be enigmatic and yet clear, something that would compel the reader to act. After terminating the connection, he sipped tepid water from the tap and ate the last of the travel rations that he’d packed. Since it was late night on the planet, and since he was already exhausted, he took a quick shower and climbed into bed.

In the morning, once he’d reviewed the message, he’d send it to Janeway’s friend, Commander Tuvok. A stardate and a carefully jumbled set of coordinates would bring the Vulcan to the shattered Maquis camp on Tevlik’s moon in the Badlands at about the same time that Cabrera planned to arrive there.

He hoped that the files that he had so meticulously encrypted and hidden there years earlier had escaped damage in the Cardassian massacre, but there was no use in worrying about whether the information survived. He would have to check it out in person to know for sure, and he would have to be ready to move once he retrieved them. Every member of Coquille’s crew had been grilled multiple times about the necessity of turning over all records of any scan of Belle Colony, and Section 31 would be very unhappy to find out that he’d told a lie under oath. He was sure that they would consider it a capital offense.

In the meantime, all he could do was be patient and keep moving.

Kathryn Janeway supposed that she was the only person in the farmhouse who was still awake at two o’clock in the morning. She’d tried to sleep, but found her heart racing and her mind unable to stop its restless review of all that had happened to her in the last two months.
Two months. Just over eight weeks earlier, she’d beamed onto the Toroyan station and had been caught up in a new, dramatic chapter of her life. The weeks with Anorha would have to eventually be reduced to a few pages of a factual, objective Starfleet report, and she actually looked forward to writing it. She was used to the bureaucratic prose of such papers and usually found the whole process cathartic.

The weeks she’d spent recovering under the protective wing of the Caritas would be another issue altogether. She could hear their questions now: “Why did you allow the Toroyans to report to the Federation that you’d been killed at the station?”; “Why did you turn to the Caritas once your collaboration with Anorha ended when you could have returned to the Federation?”; “Why did you wait another two months before letting the Federation-not to mention your poor grieving family-know of your survival?”

She had answers, of course, for each question, and Starfleet would probably accept them as valid reasons. If her would-be murderers thought she was dead, she could move and work without fear of another assassination attempt. If her efforts to establish a reliable relationship with the Union and the Toroyans were to succeed, she needed to find a neutral third party like the Caritas to help her evaluate the true situation in the region. Starfleet would see the logic of such explanations and attribute the maverick nature of her actions to the seven years of independence she’d exercised in the Delta Quadrant.

Gretchen and Phoebe Janeway, however, would demand a better, more personal explanation for putting them through the agony of yet another bogus death. They would see the need for her deception on a professional level, but they would see through it, too. They would correctly suspect there was more to the situation that she was neatly sidestepping, a reason which could be boiled down to one word.

Chakotay.

From where she was sitting, she could see the light glowing in the window of his apartment. He, too, was awake for some reason, and she wished for a commbadge or intercom that would allow her to summon him to her side. After all their years apart, she never tired of talking to him, hearing his voice, and watching the expressions on his face. She smiled to what he would say if he knew she was up at this hour-something about the return of her insomnia as a sure sign of her return to normal. But she also knew that it was the prelude to her departure.

At least Chakotay understood why she had to leave, even if Marilas didn’t. She thought back to the discussion she’d had with Marilas that morning and the lecture she’d been given about memories to “keep her warm.” She smiled at the thought, wondering if Marilas would accept the seven years of an intimate friendship on Voyager as an adequate substitute. She doubted it. And to be honest, it was no longer enough. She was no longer his captain, even if he was still a criminal in Starfleet’s eyes. He’d always been a criminal to them.

She would have a hard time writing a report on her stay at the farm, for there were large gaps in her memory following her arrival on the Caritas ship. She remembered vividly the first moment she’d seen Chakotay again on the tiny bridge, and smiled to think that he had once again aimed a phaser at her as he’d done at their first meeting on Voyager. She knew she’d thrown herself into his arms and wasn’t at all embarrassed by her uncharacteristic display of emotion. They had each been told that the other was dead, and they both needed the physical reality to banish the grief and fear that had gripped them.

Everything after that moment for a period of almost two weeks was a blur of sound and color, with a few disconnected flashes of clarity. She didn’t remember Riker and Marci’s return to the ship, the flight to the Caritas’ home base, or her arrival at the farm. As for the women who took care of her, she suspected that she’d introduced herself to them a half dozen times in the next few days. She recalled the pattern of sunlight and moonlight on the wall, the aroma of cooking, the subdued voices of children outside her door, a cool cloth on her forehead, and gentle hands feeding her, helping her to the bathroom, changing her into a clean gown.

Through it all, there was one constant presence, one special face, one tender touch, one sympathetic voice that she looked for with desperation. Chakotay. It was his presence that brought her peace, assurance, and the ability to rest. She knew that if he were with her, he would take care of everything while she recovered, and she was relieved that each time she surfaced from the deep well of her illness, he’d be there, waiting to comfort and reassure her.

Then, early one morning, she’d awakened and known where she was for the first time in days. She heard the voices of the children as they went through their morning routine and prepared for school. She smelled the breakfast being prepared, fresh bread, fried meat, and an enticing tang that reminded her of coffee. The weak dawn light gave the room a warm rosy glow that was almost magical. Her headache was gone, she could breathe easily, and her joints no longer burned when she moved them.

She’d rolled over and then stopped in shock, for not a foot away from her was Chakotay, sound asleep on a cot that looked to be a foot too short for him, close enough for her to reach out and touch him without moving from her bed. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude as she realized that his constant presence hadn’t been a wishful dream or a figment of her imagination. He’d literally been at her side day and night, and the depth of his devotion suffused her with love.

With a trembling hand, she’d reached for him, touching his cheek with a gentle caress. His eyes had opened instantly and stared into hers, his momentary worry evaporating into a smile of recognition. This was the real Kathryn looking at him, back from the febrile delusions and confusion that had plagued her.

“Hey, I know you,” he’d whispered, covering her hand with his own. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” she’d answered with a shy smile on her face. “But, where are we?”

The light in Chakotay’s apartment flickered out, and Kathryn sighed in resignation. She would have to try to sleep. Back in her bed, she stared at the stars in the night sky and imagined the most direct route back to Starbase 450.

What was it that Marilas had said about Chakotay’s recovery? He had imagined that Marilas was Kathryn, because he’d needed her presence to help him survive. She could understand that now that she’d been through a similar experience. She’d listened for his voice, looked for him, each time she’d regained consciousness. But, when he was well, he’d had to carry on alone, and while that wasn’t her fault, Kathryn regretted not being there for him. And she was sorry that she couldn’t take him with her when she returned to the Federation. At least, not yet.

Kathryn couldn’t help but wonder if Marilas had an ulterior motive in asking Chakotay to go to the line camp during the final days of her recovery. Perhaps she wanted to provide them with the opportunity for a “few days of togetherness” before Kathryn left. She should feel irritated with the older woman for meddling in her life, but all she felt was gratitude. She’d promised Marilas that she would tell Chakotay her true feelings, and she had every intention of doing just that.

The line camp would be the perfect location.