Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. I’m just borrowing them.

Night and Day will be a series of episode additions (not in chronological order) that lets us see the Kathryn/Captain differences from Chakotay’s perspective.

Summary: This is an episode addition to “The Raven” in which Chakotay visits Janeway in her da Vinci holodeck program.

Night and Day 3

by mizvoy

“The Raven”

Stardate: Unknown (Sometime during season four following “The Raven,” in which Janeway takes Seven to her da Vinci holodeck program in an attempt to teach her sculpting and help develop her “humanity”).

“You read all of these in one afternoon?” Chakotay looked at the pile of PADDs on Captain Janeway’s desk with dismay. “It took me a day and a half to prepare them for you, and you read them in three hours?”

“Blame it on the fact that we’re in orbit around a friendly planet for once,” she replied with a grin. “It’s amazing what can be done when you aren’t interrupted. This stack is the one I’ve approved without comment. This stack has the reports that need more clarification.”

“The engineering report,” Chakotay sighed as he looked at the top PADD. “I tried to get Vorik to put in the detail I knew you wanted, Captain. With B’Elanna and Joe both on shore leave, I didn’t have their expertise to rely on as a final review. I finally decided there was only one way he’d believe me–give them to you and have you kick them back.”

“You’d think Vorik would know by now just how much scientific data I expect.” She finished her coffee and stood up. “I’m going to the mess hall for a bite to eat and then to the holodeck. You’ll be glad to know that I actually have a few hours of free time scheduled there this evening.”

“The holodeck is better than nothing, but why not beam down to the planet? I enjoyed my time there, and I know you could use a break from the ship.”

She shook her head. “I spent the first two days in orbit down on the planet being wined and dined during the trade negotiations, Commander. And the red-headed deputy minister was much too interested in personally showing me the sites, if you know what I mean.”

Chakotay had seen the way the minister had drooled over the captain during her negotiating sessions and couldn’t resist a gentle tease. “Have you once again snared a man’s heart, Captain?”

“Let’s just say that he found me much more captivating than I found him and leave it at that,” she chuckled, a tiny blush appearing on her cheeks. “The fact is that I’ve had enough time on the planet. I prefer to stay on board and let everyone else take some time off.” She led the way across the ready room and toward the bridge. “Let Vorik know that you’re bringing me the updated engineer report as soon as he gets it up to snuff–even if you have to wake me up. Maybe that will inspire him to write a more complete report and be quick about it.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Hours later, Chakotay stood in an alcove in Engineering looking over the corrected report before downloading it for the captain’s review. He’d been lurking on deck eleven awhile, long enough for some of the crew to forget about his presence, and he relished the opportunity to listen in on the idle conversation that gave him insight into the crew’s morale.

Two members of the engineering staff were discussing their recent shore leave, especially the incredible similarity between the alien planet and earth, but their conversation had eventually drifted to the captain’s habit of staying on board the ship rather than beaming to the surface.

“If you ask me, the captain needs a hobby,” Crowder remarked. “All she does is work, work, work. This has to be the third time we’ve redone that report. And, besides, if her idea of fun is reading a report on the plasma injectors in the middle of the night, well, somebody needs to remind her of a few other midnight activities that are lots more fun.”

“Are you volunteering, Rick?” McKee laughed. “She knows about the ‘other’ midnight activities.”

“I was hoping she’d be on shore leave when I got back. Chakotay is much less picky about these figures. How can she pass up two days on a beach? Or in the mountains? Why stay on Voyager?”

“She beamed down there when we first arrived, and she’s been on the holodeck the last few days. For all you know, she might indulge in some of those midnight activities while she’s there. She wouldn’t be the first.”

“Nah. She doesn’t strike me as the type. She probably programs some advanced science classes at the Vulcan Science Academy and sits there and takes notes. You’d think that eventually even an overachiever like the captain would want to have some fun.”

The pair drifted away, and Chakotay just shook his head. He was always amazed at the crew’s misconception of Kathryn Janeway’s private side, and he wished she would relax a little and let them see her more often as just another member of the crew. She worked hard, true, but she knew how to have fun. She was the best velocity player on the ship, but played only against him or Seven. She loved music and literature, and even dabbled at painting, but those were solitary activities that no one saw her enjoying.

Despite the late hour–midnight–Chakotay whistled as he made his way out of engineering and toward the holodeck. If she hadn’t ordered him to do so, he would never have considered interrupting her holodeck time to review an engineering report, especially when the computer informed him that her time was nearly over. He decided to deliver the report to her with the hope that he could walk her to her quarters for a cup of tea before bed.

As usual, Kathryn had no privacy lock on the program. Chakotay used his command code to gain access to the holodeck and walked into sixteenth century Florence. Well, actually, he found himself in Kathryn’s idea of what Leonardo da Vinci’s workshop might have resembled. He stood still as the doorway closed behind him so that the illusion was made complete. He had visited her here once or twice, but he had never had the opportunity to study it closely. He found himself looking around with great curiosity.

Many of the artifacts in the room were taken from Kathryn’s study of da Vinci’s completed work and the many notebooks he had left behind. There were copies of a few of his famous paintings leaning unframed against the wall–the Mona Lisa, for example. There were the skeletons of “flying machines” suspended from the ceiling, sculptures of disembodied arms and legs, and countless drawings of machines and statues spread across the work tables. There were a few ancient “robots” made of crude pulleys and ropes and countless other tools of the artistic and scientific trade on every available surface. It was a collection of potential creativity of unprecedented variety, and Chakotay appreciated for the first time how it would appeal to his captain’s scientific and creative nature.

“Captain?” he said, looking around for some movement. “I brought the engineering report.”

Silence. The quiet, restful atmosphere of the room began to seep into his consciousness. It was the middle of the night in Florence, probably the same time of day as on the ship, and the room was hazily illuminated by dozens of candles whose flames were guttering in the breeze from the open patio windows. He began to make his way toward the patio when he noticed a painting on an easel–one Kathryn must have been working upon because the paint was still wet. He picked up a candle and held it above his head in order to see the painting more clearly.

He was so shocked by the beauty of the scene that he nearly dropped the burning candle on his head. It was a painting of an eagle sitting on the edge of a cliff, leaning outward so far that Chakotay felt he should reach out to catch it. Each feather was carefully rendered, each eye so full of life that the eagle seemed to be a living, breathing being caught at a moment of fluid action, perhaps the very moment that the eagle had spied its prey and had begun its precipitous fall toward the earth. Even the rocks beneath the eagle’s claws and the clouds in the blue sky above provoked his admiration from the perfect use of light and shadow. The water in the ocean far beneath the bird seemed to move with the constant surge of the tide, and Chakotay could feel the cold air blowing on his face from the high altitude of the picture. Then he realized that the breeze was coming from the open patio doors and not the image he was studying.

He stepped past the painting and found a second surprise awaiting him–a perfect miniature of Kathryn’s dog, Molly, gazed at him serenely from the top of a sculpting table. He approached it reverently, appreciating the incredible detail and affection placed there by the artist. He picked up two smeared snapshots of the dog that laid curling amidst the discarded pieces of clay, but the statue was a far better likeness–it caught the intelligence of the breed and the attentive adoration that the animal would exhibit while gazing at its mistress.

He had to have it, but he knew how reluctant Kathryn was to share her artistic creations with others, claiming that her amateur efforts were hardly worth saving. He couldn’t risk having her refuse to give it to him, so he quietly ordered the computer to scan the sculpture and save it for later replication in his quarters. He’d learned years earlier that it was easier to be forgiven than it was to get permission. If she someday found the sculpture among his possessions, he would simply throw himself on her mercy and count on flattery to aid in gaining her forgiveness.

Once that task was completed, he stepped onto the patio. A nearby cathedral’s bells tolled midnight. The city was dark and sleeping all around him, the chill of late fall subduing outdoor activity. He stood there a moment appreciating the peaceful setting and listening to the sounds of a neighborhood at night. At first, the patio seemed as deserted as the workshop had been, but then a blanket that he thought had been left piled on a chaise lounge moved with a muffled moan.

“Kathryn?” he asked, shivering slightly at the cold. “Is that you?”

“Chakotay?” Kathryn Janeway emerged from the blanket and pulled it closer around her. Her hair was tousled and there were wrinkles in her cheek from whereher face had been resting on the chair. “I came out to watch the stars and fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Just after midnight. I didn’t mean to wake you up, but you said you wanted the engineering report as soon as it was finished.”

She sat up and yawned, holding out her hand for the PADD as he gave it to her. “I’m glad you woke me up. I was uncomfortable and freezing, but too lazy to get up and do something about it.”

“Computer, raise temperature 10 degrees.”

“Belay that, computer.” She stood up and stretched. She had discarded her uniform tunic in favor of a smock that was smeared with paint and clay. “I have a few minutes left and I’d much rather enjoy the reality of the weather, if you don’t mind. Let’s warm up by the fireplace while I look through this report.”

He followed her into the studio and noticed for the first time a carved fireplace in the wall on the far side of the room. In front of a merry fire sat two very comfortable looking overstuffed chairs with ottomans. He imagined Kathryn sitting there and having lengthy conversations with the holographic Leonardo da Vinci while sipping wine and watching the embers turn into ashes.

Kathryn pulled her blanket around her and gestured for him to take one chair as she curled up in the other, already focused on the details of the newly aligned plasma injectors. The fire provided a welcome heat, and Chakotay began to relax, gazing across the room at the painting of the poised and dangerous eagle and then looking back at his captain. He noticed that the color of the painting’s rocks matched the smears on her smock exactly.

“Did you paint that?” he asked her, nodding toward the easel.

She looked up from the PADD and squinted at him. “Did I paint what?”

“Did you paint the eagle? I’ve never seen anything like it among da Vinci’s work.”

She frowned. “Oh, that? I painted it.” Without further comment, she shrugged and went back to the report.

“That is no ordinary painting, Kathryn. I can sense the spirit of the eagle in its eyes. And I’m amazed at how you’ve caught the moment that it’s falling into flight. I can almost see it moving.”

“It was just an exercise,” she replied. She didn’t look up from the PADD as she stifled a yawn. “I like to take a vividly described poem or passage of literature and paint the image it creates in my mind. It helps me relax, for some reason.”

“That picture comes from a poem?”

She sighed at his continued interruption and lowered the PADD to her lap. “‘The Eagle’ by Tennyson. Have you read it?”

“I don’t think so.”

Her eyes glazed over as she recited the poem to him. “‘He clasps the crag with crooked hands; / Close to the sun in lonely lands/ Ringed with the azure world, he stands. / The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; / He watches from his mountain walls/ And like a thunderbolt he falls.'” She paused for a moment and then raised the PADD again. “The poem is short and sweet, but it creates a very vivid image, don’t you agree? Painting it was just an artistic exercise, Chakotay.”

“May I have it?”

“The poem?” She looked confused. “I’m sure it’s in the computer’s database.”

“Not the poem, Kathryn, the painting. May I have it?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible. It’s completely holographic. It can’t be taken off of the holodeck.”

He thought about the statue he was planning to replicate, but decided not to tell her about his “borrowing” it. “I could have the computer replicate it.”

“I’ve tried that, Chakotay, and it doesn’t work with paintings. The illusion on the canvas requires the complex interaction of the hologrid to appear as you see it. If you try to replicate it, the brush strokes disappear, and so do the delicate interplay of colors. It just isn’t the same.” She returned to the report, unaware of the anger welling up inside her first officer.

“I can’t believe that you’ll just delete this painting!”

With a tiny huff, Janeway laid the PADD down again and gave him an amused look. “Chakotay, it’s just a . . . .”

“Don’t tell me it’s ‘just an exercise,’ Kathryn,” he interrupted her, his eyes flashing. Janeway stiffened at his vehement tone, but he didn’t care if she thought he was overreacting. “It’s breathtakingly beautiful–really. And the eagle is a sacred bird to my people–a divine, powerful spirit that symbolizes clear vision, success, and prosperity. I would treasure that painting, and it breaks my heart to think that it will be lost forever.”

Her eyes grew serious at the passion in his voice. “Chakotay, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to belittle your reaction to the picture. I’m delighted and flattered that you like it so much. In fact, if I had known that you might want it, I would have done it with real paint on a real canvas” She paused and gave him a wink. “With your replicator rations, of course.”

He smiled at her joke and the tension between them lifted. “You know that you have real talent.”

She settled back into the chair with a look of resignation. “Phoebe is the artist in our family.”

“If she’s a better artist than you are, she must be spectacular.”

“I didn’t know you were an art critic.” Kathryn chuckled. “Is your annual evaluation coming up soon? If it is, I should warn you that flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m amazed that someone with your obvious talent didn’t study art instead of science.”

“You know how it is, Chakotay,” she sighed, shaking her head. “When I was growing up, my parents would offer me the choice of either space camp or an art class, and I never hesitated–science and math came first. We all pursue what we feel passionate about.”

“And you found quantum physics more satisfying than creating beautiful paintings like this?”

“Well, math and physics were interests I shared with my dad. The artistic impulse comes from my mom’s side of the family. And I guess painting and sculpting seemed inconsequential compared to the more practical applications of science. Art was a hobby to pursue in my spare time. As I grew older, each time I chose science over art, I narrowed my options. Soon the art classes weren’t even mentioned as an option any more.”

“That’s sad, Kathryn, because you have a rare gift.”

“If you say so. For many years I thought I could have science and art, too. I thought I was smart enough and efficient enough to have it all.” She grew thoughtful. “But life isn’t like that, Chakotay. It forces us to choose, and then it takes away the other options out of sheer spite. For a long time I resented giving up painting and sculpting, and I felt terribly mistreated by the way life narrows our opportunities. But, then, I discovered how much satisfaction I get from my career, and I settled for that. I guess I’ve mellowed.” She stared blindly into the fire. “Someone said once that growing older is just a series of losses, one after the other. Maybe they’re right.”

“Well, when you do dabble in your hobby, you should do it for ‘real,’ not on the holodeck.”

“Maybe once we’re home,” she replied, dismissing the suggestion out of hand. She wagged the PADD at him. “Right now my replicator rations are reserved for coffee, not canvas and paint. Now, if you don’t mind, these injectors are simply more important than art. My primary task is to keep Voyager flying, not decorate its hull with pretty pictures.”

Frustrated, Chakotay let the issue drop. While Janeway lost herself in the details of the report, he took the opportunity to move back to the easel and examine the painting more closely. He was so caught up in the beauty of the scene that he nearly jumped out of his skin with Janeway appeared at his side a few minutes later.

“Did you hear me, Chakotay?”

He turned and watched as she tossed her smock aside and pulled on the red Starfleet tunic. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I said that I’m going down to engineering to check a few of these figures for myself. Do you want to stay? If so, just shut down the program when you leave.”

“I’ll go, too.” He turned back to the painting. “Just promise to leave this in the holomatrix? Maybe someday we’ll have the capability to replicate it properly.”

“Okay But if that happens, Chakotay, you’ll have to thank a scientist for it, you know, not an artist.” She gave him a crooked smile as she shut down the program.

When he returned to his quarters, he replicated the Molly statue and held it reverently in his hands. He recalled the captain’s words. With each choice we make, our future is increasingly limited. It’s only with the perspective of age that we realize how each decision brings with it the loss of a different future. A series of losses. One after the other.

How true that statement was. His decision to leave his home world and attend Starfleet Academy had narrowed the options that followed and deprived him of his family’s support and involvement in his daily life. Later, his resignation from Starfleet and alliance with the Maquis had been just as limiting. It had meant that he’d never captain a Starfleet vessel and that he’d never enjoy the influence and prestige that a long career would offer him.

And while Voyager had restored some of that lost Starfleet career to him, it had done so at a price. He’d been essential in merging the two divergent crews and had become an important advisor and help to the captain, but his position as first officer had also created barriers between him and Kathryn Janeway that he deeply regretted. Accepting the position had allowed them to become a fine command team, but it had simultaneously prevented them from becoming anything more.

He held the sculpture in his hands, lovingly running his fingers over the delicate lines that had transformed a lump of clay into a perfect likeness of an Irish Setter. Kathryn had chosen science and math over art with the naïve belief that she could do it all. What a disappointment it must have been to realize that her choices had limited her from the true use of her artistic talent. No matter how resigned she was to her destiny, she clearly regretted that her gift had been so totally sacrificed on the altar of her Starfleet career.

He placed the sculpture on a shelf in his bedroom and stood studying it, deep in thought. Not for the first time, he admitted to himself that he regretted the taking the position of first officer, if only because of the barriers that had come with it. For a moment, he wondered whether he would make the same choice again if he knew at the time how onerous those barriers would become. He sighed and shook his head in resignation. There was no point in tormenting himself with idle speculation. Like Kathryn, he knew he must learn to live with his choices and focus on the decisions in his future, not on those that were forever beyond reach in the past. And yet . . . .

Perhaps someday . . . .

The End