Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and all things Starfleet belong to Paramount. No infringement intended.
Summary: Another take on the future following Endgame.
Safe Harbor
by Mizvoy
Chapter 7: Honesty
The blizzard flung ice and snow pellets against the walls of the shuttle hanger, nearly deafening Chakotay as he waited for the last supply shuttle to arrive. He was half frozen from the trek up the trail to the landing pad situated near the top of the hills ringing the dig. The hanger provided relief from the wind, but the building was freezing; he didn’t dare remove any of his arctic survival gear and lose precious body heat.
The shuttle was late. He paced back and forth in front of the frosty window, although he knew he’d hear the shuttle before he saw it in the driving snow. The three locator beacons situated on the hilltops were working properly, but, even so, finding the tiny landing pad and maneuvering the shuttle through the wind would be a nerve-racking challenge. If he thought the weather was likely to improve, he’d try to reschedule the delivery, but the storm had been increasing in intensity for the last four days, and he wondered if it would let up before spring.
When he and B’Elanna set the date and time for delivery the day before, he’d forgotten to ask her who’d fly the mission. Usually, Mike Ayala ferried people and equipment between the two planets, but his wife was due to have twins any minute and would probably want him to stay close by. Although Tom Paris was always ready to fly, Chakotay figured B’Elanna herself would come. Their poor connection had kept her from scolding him as much as she’d wanted to.
“Kathryn’s been here for three weeks, Chakotay,” she’d said. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t have managed a visit. I think you’re avoiding her.”
“Why would I want to avoid her? You forget that we just spent time together a few months ago. She understands that duty comes first.”
He stopped in front of the window and peered into the white sky. Of course, he had admitted to himself that B’Elanna was right, he was avoiding her. He’d known for weeks that Kathryn was going to be on the Federation’s membership team and could’ve easily arranged to be on Dorvan V when the team arrived. His fellow archeologists had stayed at the camp until just ten days earlier, helping to store the equipment and close down most of the buildings. They didn’t need him to be there to finish those tasks. He simply chose not to go. He knew it, B’Elanna knew it, and Kathryn probably knew it, too.
He began to pace again. His decision to come to Dorvan IV had been a thinly disguised effort to run away from his problems. He was hoping to use the solitude of the next two months to resolve his emotional turmoil, to find a livable solution to his complex and frustrating relationship with Kathryn Janeway.
Odd how the mind was able to explain away the real root of one’s problems. What was the saying? Philosophers can reason away anything that doesn’t fit their version of reality, and he was a master at it.
His trip after Seven’s death was a perfect example. He told everyone that he needed time away from Dorvan where they’d lived as man and wife for the last six years, and so he’d meandered through Federation space for several months, arriving on earth just a couple of weeks after Kathryn’s deep space mission ended. Coincidence? He thought so at the time, but, in reality, he’d been headed in her direction from the first moment of his trip, like a moth to a flame. She’d want to hear of Seven’s death from him, he told himself. Now he admitted that he’d needed to tell her of Seven’s death in person and be comforted by her, his best friend.
Another example happened after Kathryn ended her relationship with Richard and sent him off to Paris for good. Chakotay had decided to stay on earth for awhile longer, telling himself that he wanted to reconnect with Voyager’s Starfleet crew. He’d spent hours with Samantha and Naomi Wildman, with the Delaney twins and their families, with Harry Kim, and dozens of others who were stationed in or passed through Starfleet HQ. The fact that Kathryn was also there with him, accompanying him to every meeting and reunion, was simply another coincidence. That’s what he told himself, of course, but he admitted now that what he’d really wanted to do was reestablish their friendship. He’d spent more time with her than anyone else.
He’d even volunteered to help her set up her new class on deep space first contacts. He told himself that he had more experience than any other crewman on Voyager and that he could help her design the best possible holodeck scenarios for her student’s training. All true. But, the work also meant that he’d spend even more time with her. He found himself organizing his schedule around hers, haunting the corridors near her office, fixing their favorite meals so they could work in her apartment late into the night. Working on Voyager’s logs reminded him of their close working relationship and their complex friendship, both of which he’d missed more than he cared to remember. That’s all he wanted, he told himself. He just wanted his best friend back.
All these delusions had evaporated one Sunday afternoon in Indiana. He’d gone with her for lunch at the family farm where he’d become a frequent and welcome guest. Gretchen Janeway was an excellent cook, and Chakotay enjoyed being in a rural setting for a change.
It was a perfect evening for a long walk. He and Kathryn had gone off together, laughing and talking about the week’s events. They ended up on a dock, skipping rocks across a glassy lake. Kathryn was a champion rock skipper, of course, and was determined to teach him the tricks of the trade. She stood at his side and slightly behind him, her left hand on his waist, her cheek against his shoulder, her right arm snaked down his own so she could demonstrate how to hold the flat rock properly in his right hand.
“Think of it as a shuttlecraft skipping off of a planet’s atmosphere,” she’d instructed him. “It’s really a matter of velocity and angle of attack.”
“You know my luck with shuttles,” he’d joked, turning slightly in her half embrace. Suddenly, they both froze. He became painfully aware of her left breast pressed against his back, her left leg against his thigh, and then he realized that his mouth was just inches from hers, her breath warm on his face, her eyes wide with surprise. He wanted to kiss her. If he leaned forward slightly, their lips would touch. He wanted to pull her body against his, to run his hands through her hair.
“Chakotay?” she’d whispered, the question in her voice bringing him back to reality.
“I’m sorry.” He’d pulled away from her and handed her the rock, wondering if she could tell in the golden light of dusk that he was blushing. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good at this as you.”
She’d studied the rock for a few moments, her eyes sad, and then turned and tossed it into the pond, counting nine skips before it sank under the water. “You just have to relax,” she’d explained, “and let it happen.”
They’d headed back for the house in an uncomfortable silence. He was terribly embarrassed that he’d crossed the line they’d so carefully maintained in their friendship. He told himself that he’d come to earth for her friendship, not to seduce her, and yet . . . .
Everything had changed, and anything was possible. There was no Voyager to command, no Starfleet protocols to worry about. Seven was gone. Richard was out of the picture. For the first time in all the years he’d known her, a real relationship with Kathryn was possible. The only thing that could stand in the way was Kathryn herself.
And that was the crux of the problem. He didn’t know how she felt about him, and he was afraid to find out. He was afraid that she would reject him, only this time it would be personal, not circumstantial. He’d always comforted himself with the knowledge that other commitments and obligations had kept them from following their hearts. He liked to believe that he and Kathryn would’ve been together years earlier except for extenuating circumstances. But now, if she told him she didn’t love him, it would destroy their friendship, he knew that with certainty, and he couldn’t lose her friendship. The truth was that he’d rather have a limited friendship with her than lose her in a vain attempt to take their relationship to another level.
And so, when they returned to San Francisco, he deliberately avoided her and quickly made arrangements to join the dig on Dorvan IV. He remembered how surprised she’d been when he’d told her he was leaving, how she’d had tears in her eyes when he told her goodbye. Yes, he’d avoided her on earth, and he’d avoided her now, because he was afraid of her. She had the power to break his heart and crush his spirit with a careless word.
The unmistakable sound of an approaching shuttle brought him out of his reverie. He left the hanger and watched the pilot struggle against the swirling winds, bringing the ship slowly and carefully down for a perfect landing. After the landing, he waited for the interior lights to come up so he could give the pilot a thumbs up before he approached the hatch. Instead, he found himself rooted to the ground.
The shuttle’s pilot was Kathryn Janeway.
She smiled and waved, oblivious to his panic, and began to pull on the hood and gloves of her arctic gear. Chakotay strode woodenly to the hatch and keyed his helmet’s combadge.
“Welcome to Dorvan IV, Kathryn.”
“Some weather you have here,” she chuckled. “After a landing like that, I need a drink.”
The hatch opened and Kathryn stepped out, only to be pushed into him by ferocious gust of wind. “Watch out!” he warned her, holding her upright. “You’re light enough to be blown right off the hillside.”
“Chakotay, the cold!” He felt her shiver. “How do you stand it?”
“I don’t stand it. I haven’t been outside since the rest of the team left, and I won’t venture out again once this stuff is unloaded.”
She nodded, pushing herself away from him. “We might as well get to work, then.”
They offloaded the less critical supplies onto a anti-grav sled and staged it in the hanger, where they could get it later, and then they loaded a larger sled with his critical supplies—power cells and food. He took the lead as they slowly guided the heavy sled down the snow-packed and winding path to the camp.
The path wound its way down the hillside in a series of switchbacks. It was hard work to keep control of the heavy sled as they negotiated the sharp corners. They were both out of breath and exhausted by the time the sled was in the storage section of Chakotay’s cabin.
“Shall we bring down the second sled now or wait until morning?” Kathryn asked as she looked around the neatly arranged room. Supplies were carefully organized and labeled, and the expensive and sensitive equipment lined the interior wall.
“I can get it later. Right now, I think you should leave.”
For a brief moment, she thought he was angry with her and wanted to get rid of her. “Leave? I thought the plan was for me to stay until tomorrow.”
“The weather’s worse than I thought it would be when I talked to B’Elanna. You don’t want to get stranded here when you’re supposed to leave for earth day after tomorrow.”
She paused, trying to control her anger. “I think we should bring down the other sled. You can’t manage it alone, and I’m not ready to fly in those winds again.”
“I can bring supplies down a little at a time, as I need them. Besides, the winds tomorrow might be even worse.”
Did he really expect her to just turn around a leave? She pulled off her hood and gloves, shaking her long hair free. “I’m not leaving yet, Chakotay,” she said, her eyes flashing. “I’m tired and hungry and I need to use the bathroom.”
He sighed. “Okay. We have another hour or so of light. I’ll fix you some soup. The bathroom is the second door on the right, through that doorway.” He watched her disappear into the living area, and then he maneuvered the sled into position and deactivated the unit.
Kathryn struggled out of the arctic gear jacket and hung it, her gloves, and hood on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. It felt good to get out of the cumbersome top, even though the bathroom was almost as cold as the storage room. She decided to leave on the warm pants and shivered to think of living in such harsh conditions for two months.
She walked out of the tiny bathroom a few minutes later and looked around his living quarters. It looked to be about two-thirds the size of the storage facility and was organized into three distinct sections. She stood in the central third of the space, dedicated to the kitchen, dining, and bathroom. To her right and through an arched opening was a study complete with a tiny desk, a computer terminal, books, and a comfortable reading chair. To her left was his sleeping alcove.
Chakotay, no longer in his arctic wear, stood in front of the replicator and pointed to a bowl of mushroom soup and warm bread on the tiny table. “Dinner is served.”
“That was fast.”
“You don’t have much time. I’m getting you some hot coffee.”
“Anything hot.” She sat down and spooned the soup into her mouth. “Oh, this tastes good.” She ate quietly a few minutes as Chakotay busied himself in the kitchen. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”
“I’m not hungry. I ate just before you came.”
She stared at him, recognizing the tension in his posture, and was uneasy. Her arrival had caught him by surprise, and he was obviously not happy to see her. Suddenly, she was unsure of herself and a little embarrassed at having come. She struggled to think of something to say, turning, as always, to work. “I think Admiral O’Reilly is going to offer me the slipstream drive project. I’d be heading up the team at Utopia Planetia.”
He sat down across from her, pushing a mug of steaming coffee toward her. “That sounds perfect. You said you wanted to stop traveling. Mars is close enough for a daily commute from earth, if you wanted.”
She nodded. “I’ve wondered if Tom and B’Elanna would come work me on the project as contractors.”
His grew thoughtful. “They might, although I’d hate for them to leave. Did you ask them?”
“Not yet. I don’t really have the job, you know.”
“I can’t imagine a better person for the project.” He smiled at her, and she relaxed slightly when she saw his dimples again. “They’d be crazy not to offer it to you.”
She pushed her spoon around in the soup. Usually their silences were comfortable, but this time she sensed wariness in him. “I’ve wanted to talk to you.”
“Why didn’t you send me a subspace message? Ayala brings them with every trip. I’d have answered.”
“I didn’t want to wait for an answer,” she admitted. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you in person.” If she was going to find resolution to the distance she’d perceived in him, she’d have to work fast. Anyone who’d been married to Seven would have to know how to handle a direct confrontation. “You seemed upset with me when you left earth.”
He looked down, suddenly fascinated by the pattern in the table top. “I wasn’t upset with you. I just remembered this project and wanted to come work on it.”
She frowned, sensing that he was hiding the truth. “But you avoided me for days before you left. And you avoided me when I came to Dorvan V. Why?”
He wasn’t ready for this conversation. He’d only just begun to understand his own motivations, and he wasn’t ready to defend his actions yet. “I just need time alone, Kathryn. I’ve been through a lot in the last year, and I want time to meditate, to decide what comes next.”
Kathryn chewed her lip with indecision. Should she bring up that electrifying moment at the Martin’s pond in Indiana? Should she tell him how many times she’d imagined that he’d kissed her? How often she saw his eyes, dark with restrained passion, when she dreamed? Should she ask him if that moment of attraction been simple male/female chemistry or a remnant of what he’d once felt for her? It seemed to her that everything had changed after that moment, and she didn’t know why.
She raised her eyes to find him watching her warily, like a prisoner awaiting torture. This wasn’t the time, she realized. She pushed the bowl away from her. “I shouldn’t have come. I’ve interrupted your privacy.”
“That’s not true. I’m always glad to see you.”
“Then why are you so anxious for me to leave?”
“I volunteered for this exile, Kathryn. I don’t want you to get stuck here against your will.”
She studied his face, trying to decide what was really going on between them. Finally, with a sigh, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. “I might as well get going.”
He sat immobilized for a moment, and then began to clean up the dishes. “The winds usually die down for a short while around sundown. It’ll be easier to take off than it was to land.”
She emerged from the tiny room fastening the front of her jacket. She’d hoped to spend a few relaxing hours with him, to hear about the dig, about his discoveries. “You don’t need to see me off. I remember the way, and it’s too cold for out there for you to take an unnecessary walk.”
“I could bring back some of the supplies in the hanger. Give me a minute to dress.”
Kathryn blinked back tears of anger and frustration. “Don’t bother,” she snapped, pulling on her gloves. “I don’t think I’ll get lost.”
Now that she was actually leaving, he realized he wouldn’t see another person for a long time, and he didn’t want to regret sending her away with bad feelings. “Don’t be angry with me, Kathryn. I’d love to talk to you longer about this new job or anything else. But I know you have important work elsewhere, and I respect that.”
She relaxed suddenly, studying his face as if she’d never see it again. “What could be more important than being with my best friend, Chakotay?”
He shook his head, wanting to say that work had always come first with her, work and duty and protocol. Instead, he reassured her. “I’m still your friend, Kathryn, and always will be. I just need time to think.”
She stared at the floor, her eyes brimming with tears. “When you need a friend to listen to you . . . when you’re ready to talk, call me?”
“You’re first on my list.”
She nodded and pulled the hood over her head. With a wave goodbye, she let herself into the storage room and then out of the building. The wind had lessened, as Chakotay had predicted, and as Kathryn began the long walk up the hill , she thought about the preflight checklist, the angle of ascent for her departure, anything to take her mind off of the ache in her heart.
Meanwhile, Chakotay stared glassy eyed at the table, suddenly wanting to run out and stop her, to beg her to stay longer. Why hadn’t he asked her why she’d come? Had she come just to talk to him about her new job? Or had she come for some other reason? Because she missed him? Because she cared for him? Because she wanted to be with him?
He grabbed his weather gear and began pulling it on quickly. If he hurried, he could catch her before she left. He hadn’t even thanked her for coming to see him. He should at least tell her goodbye.
He was pulling on his boots when the rumbling began, a deep roar that shook the building, knocking the mug of coffee onto the floor and spilling books off of shelves. He stood up, holding onto the table for balance, and looked out into the twilight.
“Look at that,” he mumbled to himself. The entire southern face of the hillside was moving as the snow let loose at the top and raced toward the valley east of the camp. He knew at once that the heat generated by the shuttle’s engines had somehow destabilized the deep snow, creating an avalanche that would cover the path to the shuttle pad and make it impossible for him to move the rest of the supplies to the camp any time soon. Then, his heart was in his throat.
Kathryn was somewhere on that path.