“I’m sorry, Tuvok,” Tom said with a commendable, if unbelievable, attempt at sincerity, “I wasn’t trying to get you.”The guilty lieutenant held an olive green, wiggling object. The water dripping from Tuvok’s hair, and the scrap of olive green rubber dangling off of one ear indicated that the object in Tom’s hand was probably a water balloon. Behind Tom, barely visible in the forestry displayed in the Holo-deck, B’Ellana, Harry, Naomi, and Neelix tried desperately to suppress their laughter. Far more visible, and looking completely horrified, were Icheb, Mezoti, Azan, and Rebi. Tuvok plucked the rubber from his ear and examined it with a heavy sigh.
“It wasn’t your fault, Lieutenant Paris.” He told the grinning man. “I was going to see if I could appropriate the facilities an hour earlier than I had originally planned, but suddenly I have a much better idea.”
“I really am sorry.” This time Tom’s apology sounded much more believable, although he still couldn’t erase the grin. Tuvok twisted his lips in a grim imitation of a smile.
“Do not worry about it.” He advised him, glancing into the other room to include the rest of the little war party. “I will endeavor to keep this from coloring my next personnel review.”
Faces fell dramatically, and Tuvok felt a stab of pleasure that he knew was out of place.
“Relax,” He relented immediately, now suppressing an inappropriate stab of guilt. “I will even give you my hour to finish your battle. Happy----“ Tuvok paused, at a loss for an appropriate word.
Hunting was far more dignified than the undignified activity deserved, as was fighting. Could you even call it a fight when everyone involved was laughing too hard to even run?
“---wetting.” He finally finished with a helpless shrug.
“Thanks, Tuvok.” Tom whirled around, already putting the minor interruption to their water fight out of his mind. “That extra hour will be great!”
A chorus of “Thanks!” followed Tuvok as he made his soggy way back down the hall. His mood was bleak and the water balloon fiasco was the last straw as far as he was concerned.
This incident, and more importantly, the blinding rage that it had triggered in Tuvok, even if it had only been for a moment, had forced Tuvok to admit a truth he’d been trying to avoid for over a week. For just an instant he’d been afraid that he was going to strike out at Paris, with the full force of his Vulcan strength. He could easily have crushed Tom’s skull like an overripe melon. He had to leave Voyager, for the safety of his adopted family.
He didn’t even stop off at his quarters to change, but made his way directly to Janeway’s ready room, ignoring the surprised looks and quickly smothered grins that followed him.
“Tuvok!” The Captain looked up and, unlike the rest of Voyager’s crew, recognized the grim determination on his relatively inexpressive face. Years of friendship with Tuvok had given her insight into the tiny changes in his impassive expressions. “What on Earth happened to you?” She added, noticing his damp uniform at last.
Tuvok sighed and submitted to Janeway’s urgings to have a seat and a cup of tea. He regretted the need to concern her in this matter, and he was too finely attuned to her mannerisms not to realize that she was quite concerned about him.
“This was just an accident, Captain.” He finally said over a steaming cup of tea. “I was going to see if I could appropriate the Holo-deck an hour early for my meditation, and walked into the middle of a water balloon fight, and, for that matter, right into the path of a water balloon.
“Oh, no!” Janeway tried heroically to restrain it, but a chuckle escaped her. “Who was the guilty party?”
“Paris.” Tuvok answered so flatly that Janeway felt her concern give way to stirrings of real alarm.
“I trust you left him intact enough to complete his work shift later.”
“Mr. Paris is intact; in fact, I gave the lot of them my Holo-deck rations.” Tuvok recognized Janeway’s concern and tried to alleviate it with a hint of humor. “I don’t know if it began as an education experience for Naomi and the other children or not, but I saw them in the shrubbery. While no Vulcan child would have benefited from such unstructured activity, I am aware that most humanoid children require--play--time. I am sure it was beneficial for the other children--a way of expressing their--individuality.”
“But to give them your rations?” Now Janeway looked quite concerned. “I don’t mean to interfere, Tuvok, but is that wise? You’ve been pretty tense lately and I’m sure you could use the down time.”
“You’re right, Katherine.” Tuvok agreed seriously, taking the conversation to a far more personal level.
Janeway knew immediately that he was about to say something she wasn’t going to be happy about hearing, but it was obviously important enough to him for him to invoke the friendship that they rarely openly acknowledged; his use of her first name ensured that she would seriously consider what he said next.
“I do need a break, but I realized that I need more than an hour on the Holo-deck. I need to get away from the ship altogether. I’d like your permission to take a shuttle and return to the binary system we just passed. Its fifth planet was remarkably similar to Vulcan, and it would be ideal for my meditations.” He closed his lips firmly, as though restraining further words. Janeway studied him intently, sensing that there was something about this situation that she should be worried about.
“I don’t know if I like the idea of you being off on an unknown planet by yourself for so long, Tuvok.” Janeway responded, a worried frown creasing her forehead. “Anything could happen to you and there would be no way for us to know, or for you to contact us.”
“I realize that, Captain. All I can say is that it is a necessary risk.”
“Necessary why?” Janeway demanded instantly.
“I would prefer not to go into details.” Tuvok replied stiffly; Janeway sensed his embarrassment and studied him even more closely. Her instincts as a Captain and a friend were demanding that she understand this situation fully before agreeing to anything.
“Tuvok, I understand that this is important to you, “ she began carefully, “but I need you too much to risk losing you to an avoidable accident!”
“Captain, I need this!” Tuvok exclaimed earnestly, jumping to his feet to pace restlessly. “I would not ask it of you if it were not more important than the implied risk.”
Janeway looked at him carefully, noting the tenseness in his full, dark lips and the lines of strain creasing his forehead. He looked wound tight enough at the moment to jump right out of his skin, and she had the nagging sensation that she knew what was bothering him; that it was hovering in her mind just outside of her understanding.
“I agree, you need something.” She said finally, concern evident in her voice. “And I don’t know how to reconcile these conflicting needs.”
“Sometimes, Captain, you have to let your people go. I am a liability to you like this, and if I do not resolve this--conflict within me, I may become dangerous to Voyager.”
Janeway bit her lip as understanding finally dawned, and looked down, masking that understanding with all of the expertise that years of practice as a Captain had given her. Tuvok’s pride demanded that he keep his condition to himself, and she was determined to allow him that. She was frightened, she knew that this could be the end of their friendship, it could be the end of her friend, but she knew that the situation was far beyond her control.
“Very well, Tuvok.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, hoping that her face was schooled enough to keep her knowledge to herself. The gratitude in his eyes told her that it wasn’t, but it was enough. “But you will understand that I can’t let you go alone.”
Rage flared in Tuvok’s eyes, worrying both of them, even though Tuvok regained control almost immediately.
“You are missing the point.” He said dangerously, his rage only minimally under control.
“No, Tuvok, I’m not.” Janeway countered with the courage that she brought to everything. “I realize that this could become dangerous, but the Doctor can’t be harmed----“
“I could, and very well might, destroy his mobile emitter.”
“We will backup his program before you leave and have B’Ellana begin creating a secondary emitter as a safety precaution.” Janeway silenced him. “And I will have Chakotay remain in orbit in the shuttle, out of your reach, but able to help in an emergency.”
“Katherine, please----“ Tuvok began, wrenching her heart at this further evidence of his emotional deterioration.
“Tuvok, it’s the best I can do. I value you far too highly to let you do this alone. Take it or leave it.” She cut him off, her chin jutting with determination, even as her eyes darkened with pain at having to speak so harshly to one of her closest friends during his hour of greatest need.
“Very. Well.” Tuvok gritted out, his fist clenched as he strove to bring his disappointment and frustration under control. “I can only hope that you will not regret your stubbornness, Katherine.”
He spun on one heel and stalked out of her ready room, not even noticing his crew mates in the unaccustomed fog of emotion he was in.
“Chakotay, I need you in my ready room.” Janeway said into the com in thundering silence that had remained after Tuvok’s departure.
It was Chakotay’s off shift, and he was just returning from a rousing session of Parcheesi Squares. He wanted nothing more than a sonic shower and his bed, but he ignored that in the face of Janeway’s request. It was quite unusual for her summon him during his free time. That she had done so indicated something pressing was worrying her.
“I’m on my way, Captain.” He answered briefly, pausing long enough to mop his sweaty face with a towel and to grab a fresh towel to drape around his neck. He knew, by the uniqueness of her request, that she would prefer his disheveled condition to the delay showering and changing would bring.
“What is it?” He asked, as soon as the doors slid shut behind him.
“Have you noticed anything----off about Tuvok lately?” She asked abruptly.
Even odder, Chakotay thought, his eyes narrowing with concern. Normally she would have offered Chakotay a cup of tea or coffee, asked about his shift, and made sure he was comfortable. Chakotay considered carefully, since this was obviously quite important to her.
“He’s been a bit more self-contained lately.” He offered doubtfully. “But other than that he seems pretty much the same as always to me.”
“He’s just come to me and requested permission to take a shuttle back to that binary system we passed last week.” Janeway blurted, her brows drawn together with worry. “He says he needs some space to meditate----that the fifth planet in that system, the desert planet, would be enough like Vulcan to help his focus.”
“That sounds logical enough.” Chakotay said slowly, studying Janeway’s reaction to his words. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “But you don’t think so.”
“Chakotay, how long have we been in the Delta quadrant?” She asked, throwing him further out of his mental equilibrium.
“A little over six years.” He answered with a puzzled frown. “But what does that-----oh!”
“Precisely.” Janeway agreed briskly, pacing back and forth as she went on. “I’ve been half expecting this for the last few years. I wondered what we’d do if we didn’t get back to the Alpha quadrant before his time came again. We can’t exactly have a death match every time Tuvok or Ensign Vorik go through pon far.”
“But didn’t Tuvok say that a state of deep meditation could also get them through this? Maybe the desert planet will be what he needs to achieve that state.”
“I’ve done some research on that claim.” Janeway informed her first officer. “It wasn’t easy; Vulcans guard this aspect of their culture, or biology, whichever it is, like Earth used to guard Fort Knox. But I looked in every document with a reference to Vulcan I could. As near as I can tell, only someone who has gone through the Kohlinar process--been stripped of their very ability to feel emotion, has a snowball’s chance of surviving pon far through meditation.”
She paused in her pacing and looked at him, her face a mask of fiercely repressed grief that was made all the more poignant because she felt she had to keep it completely to herself. Chakotay felt a mixture of sympathy and a stab of gratification that she trusted him with this.
“Chakotay, he isn’t going there to meditate---he’s going there to die.”
Chakotay sat, digesting this assessment. It grieved him to see Janeway hurting like this. In addition to his consideration for her, he also had a deep respect for Tuvok, and he had come to consider the self-contained Vulcan a good friend. Like Janeway, he wasn’t willing to give up on someone he cared about without trying everything in his power to save him.
“What do you want to do?” He finally asked her. Now that he understood the magnitude of the problem, his eyes had darkened to near black, reflecting the same worry that she was feeling.
“I don’t know.” She admitted, as close to tears as he’d ever seen her. “I was hoping you’d have an idea--anything!”
“Have you consulted the Doctor?”
“No. After the debacle of Ensign Vorik, I didn’t think it would be kind, or useful, to ask.”
“What about the Kirk gambit?” He asked her, a snippet from some illicit reading he’d done during his days at the Academy rising to the forefront of his thoughts.
“Which one?” Janeway asked dryly. “Kirk was the master of gambits. The only one I remember is the “Corbomite” maneuver, and I’m pretty it doesn’t apply in this situation.”
“No, I doubt that would be useful.” He agreed with a quirk of his lips. “I was referring to the time Spock went through pon far.”
“What about it?”
“He invited McCoy and Kirk to Vulcan for his wedding to T’Pau. But instead of a wedding she chose the challenge, and chose Kirk for her champion.”
“Where did you hear of this?” Janeway demanded, her eyes lit up with fascination.
“I obtained a bootleg copy of McCoy’s version of the incident. It was for a report at the Academy.” He added, making an effort to keep his face serious. He wasn’t about to admit that it was more of a juvenile dare, taken up in a moment of rare drunkenness.
Janeway was kind enough to pretend to believe him.
“So what happened?” She pressed curiously.
“McCoy got permission to give Kirk an injection of tri-ox compound, because Vulcan’s air is thinner than humans are used to. Instead of tri-ox, though, he gave him--something, I don’t remember what it was called. It caused Kirk to go into a coma, though.”
“So McCoy induced a death-like condition, which he could later reverse!” Janeway brightened, considering the possibilities.
“But, how did he keep Spock from killing Kirk for real, before the drug took effect?” She wanted to know.
“I don’t know. I guess Kirk was more capable at hand to hand combat than one might expect.” Chakotay replied thoughtfully. “All I know is that Spock thought he’d killed Kirk because he choked him to death, but McCoy brought him out of the coma on board the Enterprise.”
“It’s a good idea, but we can’t count on Tuvok to try and choke his opponent, rather than brain him with a rock or snap his neck or whatever.” Janeway sagged again, deeply disappointed.
“No,” Chakotay agreed, sagging a little himself, “you’re right about that. Tuvok couldn’t live with himself if he accidentally killed someone--even if it was during one of the few times a Vulcan is actually irrational.”
“We’ve got to come up with something!” Janeway fretted, chewing on one lip and resuming her pacing. “Tuvok is too good of a friend--too important to me, and the crew, to lose.”
“The only thing I can suggest is to go along with your original agreement to let him go to the planet.” Chakotay raised one hand to stop Janeway’s automatic objection. “With me and the Doctor.” He added.
“I don’t like it.” Janeway announced unhappily. “That just takes me from one friend and valued officer in jeopardy to two. The Doctor we can make a backup of, but you and Tuvok are irreplaceable.”
“I know, Katherine.” Chakotay commiserated softly, hating it that she had to be in such a difficult position. It was at times like this that he wished she would allow their relationship to develop into something more, so he would have the right to comfort her and she would have the right to lean on him. “But at least this way it’s a calculated risk rather than nearly certain death.”
He consoled himself with the thought that at least she knew how he felt. She knew she had the option to take him up on his open offer of more if she wanted to. He laid his hand on her shoulder as she frowned out the port. It was the most that she would allow from him; all he dared to offer.
“Let me think on it.” She replied, her hand going to cover the one resting comfortingly on her shoulder. She wouldn’t acknowledge the gesture by more than a brief squeeze of that hand, but they both knew that she appreciated his support.
“Don’t take too long.” Chakotay cautioned, moving towards the door. “If we learned anything from Ensign Vorik, it was that pon far can snowball out of control pretty quickly.”
“Meet me in the mess hall at 2000 hours, and I’ll give you my answer then.” Janeway promised, straightening her shoulders and adjusting the set of her uniform jacket like she was girding herself for battle. She allowed Chakotay to precede her from her ready room and took control of the bridge, while he took himself to his quarters for a shower and, hopefully, some sleep.
***** “Well?” Chakotay was sipping a cup of coffee when Katherine walked into the cafeteria.
He looked tired. Either he hadn’t slept well, or he hadn’t slept at all. Janeway’s eyes asked him a silent question, whether it was about his exhaustion or about his continuing willingness to try this risky plan; even she wasn’t sure. Chakotay gave a brief shake of his head and a slight smile, gesturing with his coffee cup for Janeway to take the seat across from him. She didn’t really doubt that his resolve had held, and her smile held gratitude in advance.
“I talked to the Doctor.” She respected Chakotay’s weariness and got right down to business. “We didn’t agree on much, but we finally agreed that your idea is Tuvok’s best chance. You’ll take the Delta flyer and head back to the binary system in 4 hours. We’ll bring Voyager to a full halt here--I’ve told the crew that we’re going to observe the system two light years from here in depth.”
“The one with a gas giant planet that might have intelligent life?” Chakotay asked interestedly.
“Yes, but you won’t be going, so you’ll just have to rein in your curiosity until you bring my science officer back to me--in one piece.” A trace of a smile graced her face as she spoke.
“Aye, aye, Captain!” He replied with a parody of a military salute. “Does Tuvok know yet?”
“No, I wanted to make sure you were still up to this first.”
“I’ll take care of him, Katherine.” He promised her seriously. “I consider him a friend too.”
“I know you will.” Janeway smiled tiredly at him. “But take care of yourself as well. I need you too.”
It was a good thing that his skin was dark enough that he didn’t blush easily, he thought ruefully, hiding his rush of pleasure in a sip coffee.
“Thank you, Chakotay.” Janeway added softly, a wealth of meaning in her voice.
He knew that she wasn’t just referring to his assistance at this moment, but also for his unfailing support of her regardless of the circumstances. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his lips quirked, even as he gave a modest shrug of his shoulders, at a loss for words.
“I’d better get going.” He said lamely after several seconds of uncomfortable silence. “If Tuvok isn't already waiting in the shuttle, he will me seconds after you give him the okay.”
Janeway’s silence was an agreement. They hadn’t come up with the ideal solution, if there was one, but it was the best they could do. At least they were trying something, she thought to herself, watching Chakotay’s retreating back.
***** What none of them had anticipated; couldn’t have even dreamed, really, was that an alien entity had taken an interest in Voyager and her crew almost a year ago. This entity had encountered the Enterprise under the command of Captain Picard and been soundly defeated in its attempt to control both them and the situation. Although it had learned much from the encounter that it found valuable, (for it considered itself a scientist and explorer), it had been more than a little irritated at the puny humans’ triumph over its original plans. Tagging along with Voyager, it had learned much more about humans and human emotions, but it had also come to realize how very little that information scratched the surface of the complexity of the human condition. In short, its curiosity had been piqued, not satisfied, and it had been waiting for an opportunity like this to present itself. <\H4>
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN “The Captain informed me that you will be accompanying me.” Tuvok said dourly, not even looking up from the systems he was checking on board the small shuttle as Chakotay boarded the flyer and stowed his carry sack.
“I requested to come along.” Chakotay informed him calmly. “I need some time away from Voyager too.”
“You are coming along to keep an eye on me.” Tuvok contradicted him, a tiny frown of anger bringing it home to Chakotay just how far the pressures of pon far had deteriorated his Vulcan composure.
“No, I am coming along to keep an eye on you.” The Doctor announced genially, boarding the ship. “Chakotay is going to keep an eye on the shuttle. They don’t grow on trees, you know. And even if they did, Voyager doesn’t have any trees.”
“Shall we get going?” Tuvok asked pointedly, angry that Janeway didn't trust him enough to make this journey himself, but aware, with the part of him that still retained the remnants of logic, that she was right to worry.
“Yes, let’s get this show on the road.” Chakotay agreed quickly, wanting to soothe Tuvok’s obvious agitation.
It was disconcerting to see the normally controlled Vulcan so emotional. He was growing more worried with each passing hour, and wanted to reach the planet as quickly as possible. Tuvok controlled his irritation with an obvious effort, and the Doctor secured himself in the back. In moments they were underway, more than two hours ahead of schedule, but it was none too soon if they took Tuvok’s deteriorating control into consideration.
The first several hours were uneventful, if you ignored the fact that halfway through the second hour Tuvok excused himself from cockpit duties to meditate in the back of the shuttle. The Doctor had then hurriedly joined Chakotay. Of course, Tuvok had made it clear that he resented the Doctor’s presence by wrenching his medical tricorder away from him and throwing it at his head. He was quite vocally indignant at Tuvok’s “rude” behavior, but privately he and Chakotay shared concerned looks.
“Did you get a chance to see how he’s doing?” Chakotay mouthed, mindful of the Vulcan’s sharp hearing.
“Not well.” The Doctor mouthed back, his gentle face wreathed in wrinkles of worry. “He’s much worse than I anticipated.”
What would have been said next was lost as the Doctor’s gaze was distracted by the view screen, worry melting into total disbelief.
“Does that belong there?” He yelped with understandable alarm.
The view screen showed an irregular blob of nothingness that allowed only a few stars at the very edges of the viewing field to shine through.
“Where’d that come from?” Chakotay exclaimed, fingers flying over the control panel in an attempt to throw the tiny craft into reverse and away from the phenomenon.
It was too late--the amorphous blackness lurched and engulfed the shuttle. Chakotay tried to retreat, fly through it, even over it, but nothing worked. Tuvok had appeared in the cockpit moments after their capture by the darkness, and, after pushing the Doctor out of the way, busied himself with the scientific readings the shuttle’s sensors gave him.
“Tuvok, can you tell what it is? How big it is?” Chakotay demanded, his tone holding just a hint of the frustration and anxiety he was feeling.
“No.” Tuvok answered shortly, his long fingers flying over the controls before he finally sat back in the chair and looked at the screen with a mixture of anger and bafflement. “According to our sensors, it is nothing.”
“Then why can’t we fly out of it?” The Doctor questioned nervously.
“I do not know.” Tuvok told him, his flared nostrils warning Chakotay that his control was being pressed to the limit.
“Did you try to send out an emergency distress buoy?” Chakotay questioned, throwing a warning look at the Doctor. At Tuvok’s brief nod he went on; “I think all we can do now is to wait and hope Voyager gets the message.” He kept to himself his doubts that the buoy would be any more successful in escaping the nothingness than the Delta flyer had been.
“Don’t bother.” A new voice calmly advised. The voice came from an open com link that had apparently activated itself. At the same time, the view screen activated and an oddly distorted humanoid face filled the entire screen. “Nothing gets in or out of my laboratory unless I want it to.”
“Who are you?” The Doctor demanded incredulously. “How did you activate our systems?”
“This is my environment. I control what does and doesn’t happen within it.” The entity replied smugly.
“Why have you captured us?” Chakotay asked bluntly. “We aren’t any threat to you, we’re just passing through.” He added more tactfully.
“I am a scientist. I find humanoids interesting, and humans of particular interest. When I noticed your vessel in this quadrant, so far from your species point of origin, you drew my attention.”
“That does not answer the Commander’s question.” Tuvok interspersed dryly. “Why have you taken our vessel? Why not simply open up communications with us?”
“You are in a state of extreme agitation.” The alien responded with curiosity. “And it is a natural, biological function of your kind?”
No one in the shuttle replied. Tuvok would never willingly discuss his condition, and the Doctor felt himself bound by doctor/patient confidentiality. Chakotay was merely unwilling to cooperate with something that had abducted them just on general principles. The alien continued, obviously speaking to itself, though.
“How very quaint. Procreation in general is an alien concept to me, but that you would become physically compelled to procreate is very peculiar.”
“Excuse me.” Chakotay said pointedly, and with more than a little irritation. “While I can understand that you might find us interesting, we do have things to be doing, so if you’d kindly release us, we’ll just be on our way.”
“No, that would not be convenient.” It replied absently, still focused on Tuvok. “So, you are not only compelled to mate, but will even die if not allowed to fulfill that imperative? Why have you not done so, then, Tuvok?”
Chakotay and the Doctor started at this evidence of personal knowledge, but Tuvok, as a telepath, had been aware of the alien scanning their thoughts from the beginning.
“It is a personal matter.” He answered tightly.
“And you, Chakotay, are here to help your friend, even though the odds are that he will eventually kill you?” The alien went on thoughtfully, ignoring the obvious exasperation of the others.
“Apparently you know us.” Chakotay tried again, keeping his anger under control with great difficulty. “And you are..?”
“Ahh, yes, I had forgotten your limited dissemination of information amongst yourselves. I am Ngylm.” The alien answered calmly. “And I have detained your vessel for a reason.”
Chakotay bit down the hot words that rose to his lips. Now that the alien appeared to be willing to explain matters it didn’t seem to be an opportune time to express his own annoyance at its high-handedness.
“I had originally thought that I would have a selection when I detected your vessel’s approach, “ he continued, “but I see that you, Chakotay, are the only true human male on board. Very well, it will have to be you then.”
This time Chakotay found himself choking down an understandable shock of nervousness at the revelation. He had a premonition that being the object of this entity’s attention wasn’t an experience that he was going to enjoy.
“What will have to be me?” He asked in a commendably even voice.
“I wish to observe a human familial unit. You will mate with the female I have and produce offspring.” Ngylm replied with blithe unconcern for Chakotay’s probable response.
“The hell you say!” Chakotay blurted hotly. In general, he didn’t use such terms, but some situations don’t allow for any other response.
“Just who do you think you are?” The Doctor demanded, furious on Chakotay’s behalf.
“That is a most illogical suggestion.” Tuvok chimed in firmly.
In the midst of that uproar the woman appeared. She was a small woman, only a few inches over 5 feet, with a too-slender form that spoke of years of lean rations. She wore an incredibly ugly, mud-brown overall outfit, with a form-fitting black shirt showing underneath it. Her waist-length, light brown hair had been confined in a practical braid, and she wore no jewelry.
Her face could only have been described as pixie-ish, but her dark blue eyes had dark circles under them, and an aura of sorrow that kept her from appearing childish. She took one look at the three men confronting her, and paled. Chakotay was actually surprised that a complexion that white could get any paler, and he jumped forward with instinctive chivalry to offer her support. She cowered back in a reaction that was too rapid to be anything but involuntary.
“It’s okay.” Chakotay said immediately, freezing in his tracks. “No one here is going to hurt you.”
“Who are you?” She demanded, her voice low and husky. She lowered the arms that had flown up to protect her face and straightened to stand tall, but it was obviously an effort for her to subdue her anxiety. “How did I get here? What did you do to the Magellan?”
“She is human, and healthy enough, although her system shows evidence of borderline childhood malnutrition.” The Doctor announced, shocking her into flinching again when she realized he was examining her with his medical tricorder.
“We didn’t bring you here.” Chakotay said soothingly, keeping his eyes fixed on hers in an attempt to reassure her. “We don’t know how you got here or what happened to the Magellan.”
“The Magellan was an early colony ship from Earth.” Tuvok supplied blandly. “It was one of many that vanished without a trace.”
“She is fertile, and will bear healthy children.” Ngylm informed Chakotay genially.
The woman, who had been relaxing slightly as she accepted that the three strangers weren’t a threat, flinched and paled again. She looked up at the viewscreen and, when she saw Ngylm’s distorted version of a humanoid face, seemed to withdraw into herself, even though she made no overt movements.
“What are you talking about?” She demanded apprehensively.
Chakotay took one look at her white lips and trembling knees, and moved forward cautiously.
“Let me help you to a seat.” He offered gently, holding out an inviting hand. She took it warily, watching Chakotay intently for any sign of threat as he led her to his chair in front of the helm controls.
“The alien on the view screen has apparently decided it wants to see a human family.” He went on to explain once she was safely seated. “I don’t know how you came to be here, but we were traveling to a nearby planetary system when we were engulfed by an unknown phenomenon. Our sensor haven’t been able to give us any readings at all about it.”
“So, we’re its prisoners.” She said dully.
After that first look, she refused to even glance at the screen. Chakotay frowned briefly--unsettled by her refusal to look at their captor. It spoke of level of denial that couldn’t be healthy.
“That doesn’t mean we have to cooperate.” He assured her with far more calm than he felt. She glanced up at him with a skeptical look.
“You will cooperate.” Ngylm interrupted blandly. “I will merely transfer the Vulcan’s condition to you.”
And Chakotay clutched his head and dropped to his knees, his face contorted into a grimace of distress.
“What’s wrong?” The woman cried with honest concern. She reached out for him instinctively, but halted immediately when Chakotay flung out a restraining hand.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Chakotay grated slowly, trembling with the effort of controlling himself.
It would have been too simple to say that Chakotay was overcome with lust; or anger; or anything else of that sort. Instead, it was more of a compulsion to seek out, not just any woman, but the one who would have the most to offer his race in terms of desirable genetic traits; a drive to preserve the continuity of humankind. Coupled with this pressure was the overriding urge to eliminate anything that could be an obstacle to his procreative needs.
The Doctor stepped forward, fiddling with a hypospray with one hand, while his eyes were fixed onto the tricorder in his other hand.
“What have you done?” Tuvok demanded furiously, his control snapped, not by the pressures of pon far, but by the unexpected removal of those pressures..
“Chakotay is now in pon far.” Ngylm confirmed. “He may mate with the female, and you will be free for another 7 years. Perhaps by then you will have found a way back to your lifemate and will not die, as you surely would have had I not performed this transfer.”
“Undo it!” Tuvok shouted. “Chakotay is a human! He is not prepared to deal with this condition.”
Ngylm may have removed the triggers for pon far, but it had obviously left the physical by-products that had already accumulated in Tuvok’s system. Now that his hold on logic had been shaken, he was reacting with even more emotion than your average human would have in the same circumstances.
“I will not. This condition will ensure Chakotay’s eventual cooperation.”
The Doctor pressed the hypospray to Chakotay’s neck, and he shuddered again before sagging with relief.
“Thank you.” He said thickly to the Doctor, but his eyes found Tuvok’s with new respect. “This is what you deal with every 7 years?” He asked, his eyes clearing and shoulders straightening as the drug took effect.
Tuvok’s response was simply to look away uncomfortably.
“Ngylm, this is wrong.” Chakotay began with a semblance of calm.
He knew that his calm was only a veneer, though, for he could feel the raging emotions beating away at the artificial control the Doctor’s drug had given him.
“If you want to watch a true human family unit you have to wait for one to occur naturally. Forcing a couple together invalidates the objectivity of the experiment. Besides, a family doesn’t form simply because of some reproductive mandate. It requires mutual agreement between the male and the female, a desire to create a family between them, not some disinterested third party.”
“Not true. Human history is replete with pairings arranged by third parties--a condition that still continues in certain parts of your “Federation”. I been have watching Voyager for some time. I have observed that you consider yourself a man of honor. As the urges of this condition become undeniable, you will eventually be forced to heed them--once you do, your honor will require that you bond with the female at least until the offspring has been raised to independence.”
Chakotay’s sense of disappointment and failure were so crushing, thanks to the havoc that Ngylm’s transferal of pon far had already caused in his system, that he couldn’t pull together a coherent argument. He glared helplessly at the view screen. All three men were startled when the woman spoke again, her voice filled with a determination that they hadn’t realized she had.
“You have forgotten that I do not have to cooperate.” She told Ngylm, her voice laced with outrage and resolve. “I can defend myself quite handily, should this man lose control of himself, and I do not chose to have a family. In fact, I had myself sterilized before I signed up for the Magellan expedition.
“I know you now.” She went on, her attention focused so intently on Ngylm that she actually forgot about the others. “You said that you had observed these people, but I have been an unwilling observer to your countless inhumane experiments for far longer than you have been watching Voyager. I have been with you for a long, long time, haven’t I? Even if I wanted children I would not allow one to be born to satisfy your curiosity. It would be in danger every moment of its life, and I will never permit that.”
“The procedure that you underwent before leaving Earth was crude and easily reversed.” Ngylm dismissed her first objection with insulting ease. “As for resisting the male, you already feel sympathy for him. You will not allow him to die for so simple a matter as this. You humans are bizarrely willing to sacrifice for each other.”
“You are mistaken.” The woman countered. If looks could kill, Ngylm would be a shriveled mass of whatever it was composed of at that very moment.
“We will see.” Ngylm said complacently, and in that instant Chakotay and the woman vanished from the shuttle and Tuvok and the Doctor found themselves in orbit around the planet that they had originally been heading for.
“Are we really out of that--that stuff?” The Doctor questioned, his voice shocked and hushed.
“It would appear so.” Tuvok answered grimly, his fingers flying over the helm control as he laid in a course back for Voyager. “We will be within hailing distance of Voyager in approximately 52 minutes. If you would be so good as to monitor the communications panel, I will see what I can do to increase our speed.
“Certainly.” The Doctor agreed instantly, but his worried eyes swept the now innocuous starfield showing on the view screen one last time before he moved to his post.
The woman blanched, and tried to push down a rising panic--she was deathly afraid of being underground. She turned towards Chakotay, wondering vaguely if he was going to attack her now that they were alone; hoping that he was still an ally and not an enemy. She could see that he recognized the place as he eyed the stairs and the tunnel assessingly. He had the look of a man trying to decide the best option, not the look of discovery. Her mouth opened to ask a question, and the earth shook.
Her tenuous hold on courage vanished and she cried out, dropping bonelessly to the floor and curling into a protective ball. She was nearly mindless with terror, and barely registered the man picking her up and moving her to the slightly safer archway of the tunnel. She didn’t protest when he pressed her against the wall, interspersing his body between her and the falling rocks, she just clung to him like a terrified child.
Her grip didn’t ease even when the shaking stopped and the walls were once again still. Chakotay shifted her slightly, so that her stranglehold on him wasn’t cutting off his oxygen, and began talking to her soothingly; his voice gentle and reassuring.
“You’re okay.” He promised softly. “It’s all over now, you’re safe, nothing is going to hurt you.”
She was shivering all over now, but her grip had relaxed slightly.
“Can you tell me about it?” He asked mildly, still working to draw her out of her terror. “Sometimes that can help you control the fear.”
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, still unable to release her hold on him. She was dimly grateful that he appeared to be under control of himself, because she knew that at the moment she couldn’t fend off a toothless lap dog, let alone a full grown man. Part of her cursed Ngylm, recognizing its strategy, and another part of her cursed her own weakness.
“I grew up in Settle, during the wars.” She managed, and she found that beginning to speak seemed to loosen the grip of fear. She went on, her voice growing stronger. “When I was a little girl, I got trapped when a house fell in on me while I was scavenging a basement. It was a bombing run that triggered the collapse. It took my family nearly three days to dig me out. I can’t stand to be below ground.”
“Then perhaps we should get out of here?” He suggested, pushing her back from him far enough that he could make eye contact.
Her breath caught in her throat; she’d never had a man look at her with such concern or encouragement. Her life had been filled with violence and simple survival; circumstances that had greatly influenced her determination not to have children. She didn’t know what to do with a man who could be so protective to a woman he wasn’t related to, didn’t know, and didn’t have an obligation to. It spoke of a giving nature that was foreign to her, and one that she had no defenses against. She found herself nodding mutely, not even sure what she was agreeing to.
“We’re going to have to climb the stairs.” He told her, studying her face intently. “And it will be more dangerous on them if we are hit again.”
“Hit?” She repeated faintly. Oh, yes, she dimly recalled the shaking, the falling rocks--that was what she remembered of bombings, wasn’t it?
“This is the Ocampan home world.” He explained, keeping his voice gentle as he turned her and began leading her to the stairs. “Our ship encountered this place when we were first brought to the Delta Quadrant. Ngylm must have picked up my memory of our time here and recreated it for us. Right now we’re under attack, but if the scenario stays true the one I actually lived through, we will be able to reach the surface if we can make it up these stairs.”
She sensed a tension in him that was inconsistent with his encouraging words, but she was too stressed to pursue whatever he was hiding. Later she found out that his journey up those stairs hadn’t been nearly as uncomplicated as he was making it sound.
“Okay.” She agreed briefly, her grip on Chakotay’s arm white knuckled.
He had one arm around her waist, in support, and she was hanging on to it for dear life. He spared a moment to wonder if he was going to bruise before turning his attention to his companion again. Perhaps he could distract her into relaxing?
“I’m Chakotay, by the way.” He said with forced cheer. “And you are?”
“Rissa.” She managed tightly.
“Tell me about yourself, Rissa. Where’s Settle?”
They took the first step of the stairs in unison, and she suppressed a shiver of nebulous precognition that this joint step was more than symbolic. At the moment, though, she couldn’t muster the energy to care. All that mattered was that she wasn’t alone this time, no matter who it was who held her hand through the fear.
With that understanding the scene changed again, becoming a nightmare from her past.
A collapsed concrete building blocked their way forward, and menacing youths armed with pipes and clubs threatened them from behind. The battered building to the left was boarded tight; leaving only the one to their right for egress. The scent of scorched earth and stone hung heavy in the air, along with the sulfur of gunpowder and the acrid smell of recent explosions.
“This,” Rissa said tensely, her dark blue eyes the only spot of color on her pale face, “is Settle.”
Chakotay sized up the situation and headed for the open doorway to the right.
“No!” She held his arm tightly and dug in her heels, pulling on him to stop. “It’s a trap!”
“Obviously.” He replied grimly. “But we have no other options.”
“Then make one!” She insisted fiercely. “They’ll kill you if we go in there.”
“You’re right.” He agreed suddenly, his mind kicking into gear at last.
They’d been reacting to the situations instead of thinking them through; just as Ngylm wanted them to. If they had any hope of defeating Ngylm’s machinations, it would only be through a refusal to play out its scenarios.
“We aren’t going to play your games anymore.” Chakotay announced loudly, to the air around them.
Rissa made a valiant effort to stand bravely as the youths advanced on them, sneering and calling out threats. It helped that Chakotay made no move to remove his protective arm from her. Even though she had no intention of allowing herself to remain dependent on this far-too-kind stranger, she didn’t have the willpower to stand alone at this point. She burned inwardly with the realization that Ngylm had chosen her two deepest fears, her two most traumatic experiences, simply to force her to rely on this man for refuge and support, and her resentment smoldered hotter when she acknowledged that the ploy had worked.
She wasn’t about to admit defeat, however. She might be dependent on Chakotay right now; she might appreciate his courtesy and be grateful for his protection, but she was resolved not to become emotionally close to him. Ngylm might know her darkest secrets and fears, but it didn’t realize how strong her life had made her. She could walk away from Chakotay at any moment--she would sacrifice him if it preserved her independence! She wondered, though, if the amusement she sensed with that thought was from some practical core within her, or if it was Ngylm, picking up her thoughts and scoffing at them.
Chakotay felt Rissa’s stance straighten and become stronger. He loosened his hold on her accordingly, and looked around for a weapon of any kind. He sensed Rissa tensing for the coming confrontation too, but before either of them found anything suitable to use as a weapon, the gang, the ruins, and the world melted again, and this time it reformed as a verdant rain forest.
Chakotay was sure that he recognized the area, and began to relax, even as he looked around more closely.
“Where are we?” Rissa looked spooked, which didn’t surprise Chakotay.
Although he hadn’t had time to really process what he’d learned about her during these brief, if intense, interludes, he had seen enough to realize that she was a child of war; ruined cities and violent gangs. Such a lush expanse of nature would doubtlessly be alien, and therefore dangerous territory, in her mind.
“I think it’s okay.” He assured her, releasing his protective hold on her entirely and moving away.
Rissa fiercely suppressed a stab of desolation, reminding herself that she would not like this man! He was only putting distance between them because he could tell she preferred it, she reasoned.
“So, where are we?” She repeated, striving for a nonchalant tone. She started and edged slightly closer to Chakotay as a harsh cry sounded from the canopy above them.
“This looks like my ancestral homeland.” Chakotay answered her, looking carefully around. “My father brought me here once when I was young and, other than some teenage rebelliousness, it was a pleasant experience . Apparently Ngylm has decided to give us a break. If I’m right, the place where Dad and I camped is about an hour up this trail.”
“Do we want to go there?” She asked skeptically, her eyes darting nervously around at every loud sound.
The cacophony was simply the usual daily noises of a tropical forest, but she had no prior experience with anything more rural than an overgrown city park, and to her every sound signaled danger. She refused to turn to Chakotay for support again, however. This anxiety she could handle on her own, and she resolved to do so.
“Yes.” Chakotay decided after a moment’s thought. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted and hungry. I’m hoping Ngylm has decided to leave supplies in the clearing--I don’t think it wants us to be harmed in any significant manner. It has to know that we need a rest.”
“Fine.” Rissa accepted his assessment, keeping her reservations to herself.
She hadn’t survived as long as she had without learning to judge character quickly. Her instincts told her that Chakotay was her best resource at the moment. Once again she felt an aura of approval that seemed to be coming from outside of herself. She had dark suspicions that she knew the source of that outside emotion, and paused to glare impotently around her, but if it was Ngylm she sensed, the alien wisely kept hidden.
“You were going to tell me about Settle?” Chakotay prompted as they set off down the dirt path together.
“It was the city I grew up in. It was badly damaged in the war. We scavenged the ruins for food and supplies.” She answered brusquely, trying to head off further questions. It didn’t work.
“We?” He probed curiously.
“My brother, Timmon and me.”
“Where were your parents?”
“My mother died when I was very young, I barely remember her. Father disappeared shortly after. He probably got ganked, but we never knew for sure.”
“Ganked?” Chakotay questioned, unfamiliar with the word.
“Ganked. Like we were about to be before we ended up here instead. Anyone who didn’t belong to a gank was fair game, but Mother wouldn’t let us join one. Father and Timmon insisted on honoring her wishes, even after she died.” Rissa’s tone was sour, but her eyes were sad.
“So what happened to Timmon? Was he on the Magellan with you?”
Rissa felt a stab of resentment at his persistent questions; questions that brought up painful memories that she had abandoned Earth to avoid.
“He died.” She said shortly, blinking rapidly to discourage the tears that tried to fall. She’d learned at an early age that tears had no purpose.
“I’m sorry.” Chakotay told her, his sincerity unmistakable.
“It was a long time ago.” She hunched a dismissive shoulder and frowned down at the path, discouraging further conversation.
Oddly enough, she could sense his conviction that she was still grieving her brother. She was beginning to be considerably concerned by these unexpected insights. She had never been particularly sensitive to hunches before. Was she going crazy? Or had her time with Ngylm done something to her? She knew, when she let herself think about it, that she had been in Ngylm’s keeping for far longer than she wanted to know and she knew that she wasn’t the same young woman who had boarded the Magellan.
“What about you, Mr. Chakotay? Who are you?” She turned the tables on him deftly, shelving her unsettling thoughts in favor of learning more about this man.
:You know enough.: A supercilious voice murmured in the back of her mind.
:No!: She thought emphatically. :I am not going to be your lab rat, so you might as well give it up!:
:We’ll see.: Ngylm was not deterred.
“For starters,” Chakotay was saying, unaware of Rissa’s inner argument. “It’s just Chakotay, no Mister, please.” He shot her a smile full of good humor that lit up his face like the sun peeking forth on a cloudy day.
Rissa felt the first stirrings of serious doubt as to her ability to remain untouched by him as the full force of his charm hit her. Her scowl deepened, confusing Chakotay a little.
“What happened?” She bit out harshly, determined to remove that welcoming grin from his face. They’d do much better if they didn’t like each other. “What happened to what Ngylm did to you in the ship? You don’t seem to be out of control like you were.”
Chakotay blinked, a frown drawing his brows together as he took an internal audit.
“I don’t know.” He replied with honest confusion. “Maybe it reconsidered?”
“No.” Rissa squashed that idea firmly. “It’s still there, it’s just--less.”
Chakotay reassessed his emotions, and was forced to agree with her. He felt slightly edgy, something that he’d put down to lack of sleep, but now that he examined himself more closely he had to admit it was something more; a subtle pressure that was easy to ignore now, but he knew would grow as time went on.
“You’re right.” He admitted. Rissa had to ruthlessly suppress guilt at his troubled expression.
“Do you want to separate? Maybe that would be wiser.” He offered considerately. Rissa tried for a scornful grin, but it came out more wistful than cutting.
“Ngylm wouldn’t let that happen.” She pointed out, refusing to acknowledge the tinge of relief coloring her thoughts. “It would bring us together again, no matter how hard we’d tried to stay split up. This is its environment.”
“You’re right.” Chakotay rubbed his hand across his aching forehead. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that myself.”
“You’re tired.” Rissa told him, far more sympathetically than she liked. “Let’s get to your campsite and see what Ngylm left us.”
Once again that warm smile covered his face, welcoming her, but not erasing the growing sadness in his eyes. Once again Rissa found herself feeling more compassion and kinship with him than she liked.
“I accept full responsibility for the loss of Commander Chakotay, Captain.” Tuvok wrapped up their informal debriefing.
He and the Doctor had made their way back to Voyager, and made a joint report, but Janeway had asked Tuvok to stay a little longer to clarify some points of their narrative.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tuvok.” Janeway told him tiredly. “You obviously had no control over what happened--it’s this Ngylm creature that is responsible. The question isn’t one of blame, it’s how we’re going to get him back.”
“I don’t know that we can.” Tuvok responded with brutal honesty.
“We’re going to try anyway.” She declared firmly. “If you’re feeling all right now I’d like you to search our databases for anything that might be there about this---Ngylm. We’re going to go back to where you first encountered it and look for Chakotay.”
“You realize that you could be putting Voyager in considerable danger?” Tuvok cautioned, more from habit than from conviction.
He, too, felt the need to return and confront Ngylm again. The entity had transferred a potentially life-threatening condition from him to a man he considered a friend, without even consulting the people involved. Although Tuvok would have denied it, he was outraged at this cavalier treatment, and worried for Chakotay. And, even though he wasn’t positive that the woman was real, regardless of the Doctor’s assertions, he was concerned for her too. He knew pon far intimately, and knew that if she were genuine, she could be in grave danger.
“Do it, Tuvok.” Janeway smiled gently, knowing that Tuvok’s protest was automatic, not genuine.
“Aye, Captain.” He said with the half-nod that was almost as good as a smile of approval.
Janeway was already barking out orders over the com as her oldest friend left her ready room.
“Walk carefully.” He had advised her before setting across the water. “You don’t want to fall in. There are piranhas in these parts.” He didn't bother to try and explain that they would be further downstream, where the river flowed more calmly. The water was dangerous, regardless of whether the threat was the current, rocks, or dangerous fish.
Rissa didn’t have a clue as to what a piranha was, but she wasn’t interested in finding out first hand either. She edged cautiously along the swaying, fragile bridge, taking twice as long to cross as Chakotay had.
The terrain on the other side of the river was dramatically different from the enclosing forest. Rissa felt a lifting of her spirits just to be out of the mysterious and encompassing trees. This area sloped gently, with grass and small shrubs, until it butted against the granite cliffs. Chakotay led her confidently to a tall tree, growing in solitary splendor right next to the cliffs. Under the shading branches of the tree was a small, two-person tent and swinging gently from the lowest branch was a bag of food supplies.
“We had two tents when we camped here.” Chakotay shared with Rissa as he dug out some supplies. “And my Dad did the cooking.” He added doubtfully, looking at the supplies he’d pulled out with dismay.
Rissa examined the food-stuffs he held. Rice and beans, dried tomatoes and corn, and other dried bits of unidentifiable foods, a slab of bacon, and a small bag of spices in plastic containers.
“Do you have a kettle?” She asked him, eyeing the food and seeing possibilities.
“Look in the bundle of stuff next to the tent; we should have cooking utensils there. I’ll just leave this stuff for you and collect firewood.” Chakotay offered eagerly. Rissa bit her lip on laughter, not wanting to hurt his feelings, and went to rummage around the pile of camping supplies piled neatly against the tent.
She was in luck, not only did she find a tripod and several cast iron kettles to hang under it, but there was already a banked campfire and a small supply of firewood. One thing about growing up as a scavenger in a technologically devastated area, Rissa had learned how to cook over a campfire; never having had access to a controlled heat source. Since their supplies were also hit or miss, Rissa was accustomed to making edible dishes from extremely odd ingredients.
She set up the kettle, filled with water, and heating over a stoked up fire, added a pinch of salt, and turned to examine her ingredients. The bacon she threw without hesitation into the river. Somehow she knew that Chakotay wouldn’t like it, and she never ate meat. She’d seen too many people desperately ill from tainted meat in her life.
She took the other two kettles, one fairly large and the other about the size of the one she had suspended over the fire and filled the large one, lugging it back to the campsite with some difficulty, and set it next to the fire to boil. She knew that drinking water that hadn’t been properly heated could also be dangerous, and she knew they’d want drinking water soon.
The final kettle she filled three quarters full of water and added enough beans to raise the water to the rim. This she set to soak next to the fire, but not so close that the water would get more than warm. Before going to bed she’d take the kettle and hang it over the banked fire to continue to simmer overnight. Dried beans took a long time to soften enough to eat, but they were good if they were cooked with decent spices.
The water was now boiling over the fire and Rissa carefully added handfuls of rice and corn, and examined her dried ingredients. A healthy handful of tomatoes went in, along with some peach colored chunks that were a fruit that she’d never tasted before. She also added some spices; paprika, a touch of cloves, basil and thyme. When she was satisfied with the aroma coming from the kettle she poked the fire into collapsing into a hotly glowing pile of embers, and set the lid on the kettle.
Now Rissa turned her attention to the beans soaking on the other side of the fire. She didn’t know that the names of the beans she’d thrown into the pot, (pinto, kidney, and garbanzo), but she’d cooked similar combinations before and knew what she wanted to include in the mixture. More of the dried tomatoes found their way into the pot, along with some more savory spices, and some wild scallions that she’d noticed during her treks to the river.
She wasn’t entirely satisfied, she knew that they needed some source of green vegetable and that they should have fruit too, but she didn’t know how to tell what was safe and what was poisonous. She settled down with a stone that had been eroded into a bowl, and another stone that fit inside of it nicely. She’d found them just upriver of the campsite, at a small waterfall that erupted from the cliffs and fed a stream that, in turn, joined the river.
Imitating the stance and motions of countless pre-technology women before her, Rissa squatted down and began the tedious process of grinding the dried corn into a rough flour, which she then mixed with water and a little salt, and patted into thin, flat, “cakes”. She cooked them on the sizzling, cast iron pan that had been provided, just searing them lightly on each side and piling them onto a plate. She made more than she thought they’d need, knowing that they’d use up anything that was left over the next morning.
While Rissa was busy preparing their hasty meal, Chakotay had brought in more than enough wood to keep the fire going through the night and halfway through the next day. He’d also removed his uniform jacket, and filled it with a variety of fruits that he assured Rissa were safe to eat.
Chakotay gave her another heart-stopping grin as he inhaled the aromas of cooking food, and then turned his attention to the wood he’d dragged to their campsite. Much of it was far too big to be used in the small fire. Rissa wondered just how he’d managed to drag all of that deadfall over the rickety bridge, but she was coming to understand that Chakotay was nothing if not resourceful. When he dug up a small hatchet from the pile of provisions and began to hack the wood into useable pieces, Rissa found herself watching him far too closely for her peace of mind.
She got up from the fire abruptly, knowing that all that was left now was to wait for the food to finish cooking, and made her way to the provisions, intending to do a thorough inventory. She was thrilled moments later when she found two hard bound journals, filled with blank pages. She forced herself to use one of them to record her inventory but promised herself she could use the other as she wanted to later; as a personal journal of this adventure.
But as hard as she tried to focus on her self-imposed task, Rissa kept being distracted by Chakotay at work. He laid into the wood with the enthusiasm of someone working out an internal conflict with hard labor. The effect was one of masculine perfection. Muscles rippled and glistened in his powerful arms as the hatchet tore through the wood.
Rissa couldn’t help but remember how it had felt when he held her in the cavern, and even when they’d made that brief foray into her past in Settle. Goose bumps prickled along her arms and a shiver of emotion wasn’t sure she recognized went through her.
:This is your fault, Ngylm.: She thought angrily.
She’d never had such uncontrollable feelings. She’d never felt such a compulsion to simply watch anyone, let alone a man. She’d never had her attention captured by the ripple and play of finely honed muscles while a man worked, never wondered how someone’s wonderfully expressive lips would feel on hers. She knew who was doing this, and she wasn’t above letting it know she was angry.
She sensed the amusement again. Her anger was nothing to it, only the results of its experiment mattered. Besides,
:I do not influence your thoughts.: It thought with oddly gentle mockery. :You are drawn to this man simply because he attracts you. If you find your mind dwelling on him, you can only blame yourself.:
:Let us go.: She pleaded, suddenly afraid of her own emotions. :This isn’t right. I don’t want to have to watch him -- die.:
:He does not have to die.: Ngylm interrupted persuasively. :You can persuade him to mate with you; if not now, then later, when the pull of pon far is greater.:
:No! I won’t have a child to satisfy your perverted curiosity! I won’t place it at your mercy!:
:If you persuade the male to cooperate I will release you both. I will promise never to interfere with your lives again. I keep my promises, even ones made to lower life forms.: Ngylm promptly offered.
:Why?: Rissa curiosity was piqued. :Why is this so important to you? What do you care how “lower life forms” reproduce?:
:Because,: It began, its mental “voice” tinged with a faint surprise that it would confide in one of its subjects, :I have realized that I am the only one of my kind left. We were always few in number, but now I am alone. I don’t--I don't like being the last.:
Rissa tried to control a surge of sympathy---she understood the loneliness of being the only one of your kind. She’d been the only one she knew who explored the abandoned and ruined libraries, who’d cared about the musty and decaying books, who wanted more than a subsistence living in the ruins of a once thriving city. She didn't want to, but she did feel sorry for the alien; so powerful, and yet helpless in the face of this situation.
:I don’t see what our methods of procreation have to do with you. If you are the only one left, then you have no one to mate with; to produce an infant with.:
:I do not need to exchange genetic material, I can produce offspring alone, but they have all been non-viable. I am seeking what is missing, what lack there is that makes the difference between successful reproduction and failure. My offer is sincere; demonstrate for me how your kind reproduces, how it matures the offspring to independence, and I will release you both, unharmed.:
:It takes years to raise a child to independence.: Rissa countered firmly. :Years that I have no intention of giving to you. You have already taken far too much of my time. You will have to find some other humanoid family to observe.:
:No. I have you and I have the male. Should you prove willing to allow the male to die, I will simply obtain another male, and another, and another until you do as I require. I am not able to properly observe planet-bound life forms, and most humanoids rear their young on a planet. I have what I require here and now and I will not take a chance that it might become available at a later date.
:I will allow you and the male to rejoin his vessel as soon as you agree to cooperate. I will merely observe the parenting process, and not interfere. Since Voyager is very far from its home territory, by your standards at least, I will have me ample time to watch your “family”. You will have to raise the offspring in the ship, which I can clearly scrutinize, and I will learn. This is my offer. This is all I will permit. The choice is now yours.:
Rissa felt the entity shutting a mental door between the two of them, and cursed inwardly at the dilemma it left her. Stand on her principles? Her vow that she would never bring a child of hers into an uncertain world? Or allow a good man, good in a way that she had never even suspected was possible before encountering him, to die a painful and protracted death?
“Penny for them.”
Rissa jumped as Chakotay’s cheerful tones interrupted her dark thoughts, and his teasing grin immediately faded into remorse. He berated himself for not remembering that most of her life had been spent in constant fear, and that she would doubtlessly overreact to being surprised.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He apologized immediately. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going down to the waterfall to clean up before we eat. I think everything is just about done.”
“It’s okay.” Rissa assured him with a little remorse of her own. “I was just lost in my thoughts.”
Her gaze on Chakotay turned speculative as her recent, silent conversation replayed in her mind. He was a fine man, not only handsome on the outside, with his warm complexion, deep brown eyes, and devastatingly attractive grin, heck, even the odd blue lines around his left eye were exotic and appealing, but he was also compelling on an intellectual level too.
He came the closest, of any man she’d ever known, to being a real, live knight. His chivalry and honor were all the more compelling for being obviously unconscious. He drew her scarred and guarded heart with a power that frightened her.
“I found some soap.” She offered belatedly, flushing at her rudeness. Not only had she just left him waiting for a response, but she was staring at him like some silly gank female.
She held out the grayish bar and an absorbent length of cloth that she’d found, not meeting Chakotay’s eyes, and informed him that the meal would be ready by the time he returned.
“Thank you.” He said in that quiet and sincere voice that cut right through her defenses. “Normally I’d never impose on you like this, but I’m afraid it’s been a hard day for me.”
Her eyes flew to his face, searching it for any sign of mockery, but he seemed to be in earnest.
“It’s nothing.” She stammered awkwardly. “And besides, you got all of the firewood and stuff.”
“Well, I appreciate it.” He insisted. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He’d returned quickly, just as he’d said he would, but not quickly enough for Rissa’s peace of mind. She wasn’t ignorant about sex, she’d seen the kind of animal passion that could flare between a man and a woman in life threatening situations many times. But she was a complete innocent when it came to attraction. Her father and brother had protected her carefully, warning her constantly about men and what they might try to do to her. And they hadn’t been exaggerating; Timmon had died protecting her from the gank that had ambushed them in the scene that Ngylm had forced her to relive.
She had never understood why a woman willingly allowed a man to get close to her. Except for her father and her brother, she’d never met a man she could trust within arm’s length. But now she had spent several intense hours with a strange man, and he hadn’t once tried to do any of the things Timmon had warned her about.
He was kind and gentle and respectful. He smiled at her and it made her heart flip-flop in her chest. He protected her from danger and she’d not only let him, but been grateful for it! And when he’d gone to clean up at the waterfall, she’d actually spent several long minutes wondering just what he’d look like under that cold water. When it dawned on her just what her brother would say about the thoughts she’d been having, she had blushed a bright, cherry red, and busied herself about the fire.
When Chakotay returned, his dark hair glistening with water and his skin flushed and damp, she had hurriedly dished out the meal and prayed that he’d attribute her high color to the heat of the fire. The humor she sensed from their unseen observer didn’t help her composure at all, nor did the more relaxed clothing Chakotay had donned after his shower.
He’d changed into soft, tan pants and a loose brown shirt. A shirt that crossed at the chest, instead of buttoning, and gaped open as he moved around the fire, displaying hints of solid chest and dark hair. For the first time in her life, Rissa was feeling a little animal attraction herself, and she was convinced that it was the most unpleasant sensation she’d ever had!
His uniform was dripping; he’d obviously cleaned it as well as himself, and he draped it over a convenient bush to dry. He’d accepted the plate she’d thrust in his direction, and settled himself comfortably on another smooth stone to eat. Rissa stared resolutely into the fire, unwilling to open her mouth until she’d decided how she was going to deal with these strange and unsettling feelings.
“This is good.” He said with real pleasure after his first bite.
Rissa shrugged silently, and she felt his eyes on her in the darkness. She could feel the silent question in his look, but he respected her desire for silence, and held his peace. She pushed her food around listlessly and brooded, her questions and worries growing larger by the minute.
“It says it needs to know how to reproduce.” She finally burst out, her agitation filling her voice.
Chakotay paused for a moment, obviously startled, and then considered.
“Why?” He asked at last.
“It says that it’s the only one left; that it doesn’t know how to produce “viable young”.” She mimicked Ngylm’s flat tones angrily.
“And Ngylm thinks we can show it how to do things right?” Chakotay’s voice was filled with skepticism.
“I wonder if---“ Rissa’s voice trailed off uncertainly.
“What?” Chakotay asked, but his expression was wary.
“Have you ever heard of “failure to thrive”?” She questioned tentatively.
“No.” Chakotay answered honestly. “What are you talking about?”
“I read about it once.” Rissa began to explain, her expression thoughtful. “If a baby doesn’t get enough love it can’t seem to grow. You can feed it and keep it clean and everything, but if you don’t love it and hug it and even play with it, it will die.”
“You think Ngylm has been ignoring its offspring to death?” Chakotay’s voice was incredulous.
“I don’t know!” She burst out defensively. “It was just a thought.”
“It was a good thought.” Chakotay told her, obviously regretting his prior comment. “But I don’t think that raising human children compares to what Ngylm’s kind need.”
“Even Vulcan children must need love.” Rissa countered firmly. “I know that.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway, because we aren’t going to give Ngylm what it wants, no matter how sad its story is.” He declared firmly, closing the subject.
“I know that.” Rissa agreed quietly. “I agree, really I do, I’m just a little worried, I guess.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Rissa.” Chakotay assured her gently. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
“I know.” She stared out at the darkness, away from him, and waited for her blushes to fade. How could she confess she was worried about herself, not him?
“If it would make you feel better, I’ll sleep out here by the fire tonight.” Chakotay offered after a long silence.
“There’s only the one big sleeping bag.” Rissa informed him gloomily.
“Well, it’s a warm night---“ A frigid wind swirled around them, cutting him off in mid-comment.
Chakotay laughed mirthlessly at the clear message.
“Apparently it’s going to get a lot colder here tonight than it does in the real tropics.” He told Rissa dryly. “I promise, I’ll be a gentleman.”
“I know you will.” She assured him truthfully, keeping her addendum, ‘at least as long as you are still in control’, to herself. “Why don’t you go ahead and turn in now?” She suggested, filled with an odd restlessness, in spite of her tiring day. “I’ll clean up a little before I go to sleep.”
“I can’t leave you to do all the cleaning up by yourself.” Chakotay protested, but his eyes were pulled longingly towards the small tent.
“No.” Rissa didn’t miss that look, or the dark circles under his eyes. “You’re worn out, I’m not. You go to sleep, I’ll turn in when I’m tireder--that is, if Ngylm manages to restrain itself from playing with the temperature.” Her tone was dry, but the glare she directed towards the heavens was pointed. Ngylm made no response, but no cold winds blew either.
“Well, if you insist.” Chakotay agreed wearily, his long day seeming to catch up with him all at once, and made his way to the tent.
Rissa felt a surge of protectiveness, another emotion that she didn’t have much experience with, when she saw how his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. She felt a warm surge of satisfaction as she tidied up the campsite. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how lonely she was; how nice it was to have someone else to care about.
:Are you sure you can let him die?: Ngylm probed smugly. :Maybe you have a problem with that “honor” thing too.:
“I have no honor to protect, Ngylm.” She retorted aloud. “I do what I must to survive. You should know that better than anyone.”
:Actually, I don’t see you as distinctly as the others. Only the things you feel strongly about come through clearly.: There was honest surprise in Ngylm’s voice.
Rissa felt a savage thrill of satisfaction at that information. Not only did she feel that her thoughts should be private by divine right, as most humans did, but she also took a certain vengeful pleasure in Ngylm’s obvious discomfort at this obstacle to its perfect control of events. That knowledge enough that she was able to crawl into the tent and wiggle into the sleeping bag beside Chakotay with an almost perfect equanimity.
It helped that he was sound asleep already, and she was soon just as soundly asleep.
“Chakotay is mine now.”
Finally, at some unseen signal by the alien, a clear cylinder began to lower from the ceiling around Chakotay. Janeway could hear his screams of agony as a dark fog began to fill the cylinder.
“No!” She woke up with a start, covered with sweat and trembling from head to toe.
She slowly sat up in her bed, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. Then she rested her head on her knees and tried to think. What was she going to do? In the six years that she’d known him, Chakotay had become indispensable to her. She wasn’t sure if she could go on without him, and she knew she wasn’t willing to find out. At least not yet. But she had no idea how she could save him from this threat.
She had finally located a reference to the entity, Ngylm, in the logs of Jean Luc Picard, Captain of the Enterprise. What she had read horrified her. Ngylm had decided to “investigate” death---and it had calmly notified Picard that it would only require the deaths of 1/2 to 1/3 of his crew. It reminded her unpleasantly of the aliens they’d met some time ago that had decided to conduct experiments on Voyager’s crew, seeming to feel that Voyager should be thrilled to help them expand their knowledge. Janeway had agreed wholeheartedly with Picard’s decision to self-destruct the Enterprise.
She’d read and reread that single entry and the musings that Picard had added to it until Voyager reached the site where the shuttle had initially been taken. Battling a totally unfamiliar sensation of helplessness, she had composed a message and ordered it to be broadcast over every known frequency, including radio waves.
Then she’d retreated to her ready room to reread Picard’s log and brood fruitlessly until the Doctor had finally threatened to drag her down to sickbay and slap a REM stimulator on her if she didn’t get some rest. She’d been going strong for nearly 20 hours at that point, and he informed her that she couldn’t possibly make a rational decision without sleep.
Tuvok had wisely kept his discovery of the Klingon records on the space darkness that “ate ships” to himself. They had nothing constructive to offer, and he refused to add to Janeway’s distress. He still battled deeply uncomfortable feelings of guilt over the entire situation. It didn’t matter that logic told him that he could hardly be accountable for a biological function or for the actions of an unknown and uncontrollable alien; all that really mattered was that Chakotay was in trouble, and he had played a key part in putting him into danger.
And Tuvok and Janeway weren’t the only two members of Voyager who were troubled. In truth, the entire ship was in a turmoil.
It would have surprised him to know how big of an impact that he had made on his crew members, but Chakotay was well thought of, even loved, by the majority of the crew. He was available to them in a way that Janeway couldn’t be; a comrade in arms, an insightful counselor, a sort of benevolent older brother or uncle. Everyone on Voyager knew he was gone, and that the entity that had taken him appeared to have nearly unlimited powers. But not one crew member protested the potential risk in trying to contact this being and demand the return of their Commander.
Janeway got out of bed decisively, unsurprised to see that she’d only slept three hours. It didn’t matter what the Doctor told her now---she was going to man the bridge until she brought Chakotay back, or had conclusive proof that he was beyond their reach forever!
A frown creased Chakotay’s brows. His dreams were troubling and far, far too vivid. Some part of his mind, the logical part that was mostly submerged at this point, insisted that this wasn’t normal----but logic had no part in this.
The girl was far too thin, her pale blond hair so streaked with dirt and grime that it was barely recognizable as blond, and her clothing a collection of rags tied together with more rags. She scrabbled through the ruins of the house with total concentration, although her head swung up at every new sound. A smile covered her dirty face as she unearthed a can, and then another and another. She stuffed them eagerly into the canvas bag that had lain beside her while she worked.
There couldn’t have been more than ten cans all together, but even that small number seemed far to much for the stick thin arms and legs to handle. She didn’t complain or falter, though, just struggled on through the rubble of the damaged city until harsh cries and yells stopped her in her tracks.
A gank! Somehow Chakotay could sense her frightened thoughts. A gank, and she had nowhere to hide! Scrambling rapidly, she backtracked, finally coming to a partially intact building.
“I saw one of the little scabs just a minute ago.” The voice of her pursuer was far too close for comfort.
She darted fearlessly into the building, even though it looked so fragile that Chakotay expected it to fall at any moment.
“In there! She went in there!” The young male voices were filled with a malevolent excitement.
Chakotay found himself breathlessly hoping she would get to safety, and actually sighed with relief when she wiggled into a large ventilation shaft. She swiftly pulled the grate back over the opening and squirmed far enough back that she was hidden in the shadows. He could almost feel her heart pounding while she waited for the youths to get tired of their sport and leave. And when they did finally leave, he could feel her trembling relief.
Then the perspective changed and she was in a battered and musty library, looking at the shelves and shelves of books with wonder and a hunger that he could relate to.
“This is the letter A, sweetheart.” He could hear her remembering that loving female voice and knew that it was Rissa’s mother who spoke in her mind. “Apple and ant and ape all begin with “a”.”
Reverently, the young girl picked up a book from the floor, a child’s picture book, and she located the page with a musty apple and a large A.
Chakotay watched her puzzling out the sounds and the words, watched as her brother scolded her for reading instead of scavenging for supplies, watched as she read to her brother in the evenings by the light of a kerosene lamp. He saw her learn to cook, and the rudiments of first aid from her books. She patched up her brother with that knowledge when he’d had a run in with a local gank, and from what Chakotay could see, she probably saved his life in the process.
But most of all, he saw, and felt with her, the joy she found in her books. She discovered Asimov and Norton and McCaffrey. She explored the solar system, flew on dragons, discovered mysticism and her imagination soared. Instead of being beaten down by the deprivation of her life, she saw the potential in the future and rose above the squalor and lack all around her.
When the men and woman came, recruiting for colonists to settle the frontier that Cochran’s fateful flight had opened up, Rissa was more than ready. Of the hundreds of families still struggling to survive in the downtown Seattle area, Rissa was one of only 5 individuals who volunteered that day. And Chakotay felt, as if he too were there and experiencing the same things, her tremulous excitement, her longing for a new life, away from the pain and sorrow of this one.
In his sleep, Chakotay sighed, and a pleased smile creased his lips before he settled into an even sounder sleep.
A frown creased Rissa’s brows. She knew that her dreams weren’t dreams, and she knew that Ngylm was manipulating her. But she couldn’t wake up; couldn’t break its hold on her mind.
The young man was angry, but more than that, he was devastated by the news.
“Your father died in a Cardassian raid, Chakotay, I’m sorry.”
How could the old man do this to him? Didn’t he know how much Chakotay still needed him? Didn’t he know that they had things they had to say to each other yet? How could he have stayed in Cardassian space? Why hadn’t he relocated?
Angry, and fueling that anger with grief, the man threw his meager belongings into a soft bag and stormed away from his place in Starfleet. He caught a transport into the disputed space between Cardassia and Bejor and located what was left of his father’s people----of his own people.
Rissa grieved with him as he wept over his father’s grave---she felt his pain and guilt as he vowed to be what his father hadn’t lived to see in him, he vowed to embrace the ways of his people and take up his father’s cause.
“But it isn’t your cause.” She wanted to tell him, knowing, with the wisdom of experience, that one cannot change their entire world view because of guilt. “Yes, the Cardassians are wrong, and violent, but you are not! Becoming like them will not undo what you’ve lost.”
But he couldn’t hear her, of course, and he went on to join the Maquis. She watched him rise to a position of leadership within the loosely aligned group of rebels, respected his courage and the flair for strategy that he brought to his small band. She ached for his deliberate blindness, though, as he tried to punish both Starfleet and the Cardassians, not for killing his father, but for his own perceived failure in his family relationships. His growing anger and bitterness were no surprise to her, she knew that there could be no other outcome to his misguided vengeance.
When Seska arrived, angry and vibrant and attractive, Rissa tried to warn him again.
“No, she can’t be trusted! She has mean eyes. She’ll hurt you.”
But again, he couldn’t possibly hear Rissa’s voice. And he grew closer to Seska, drowning some of his pain in her admiration, her loyalty. He began to believe he might have found a soul mate, only to find, after their precipitate transport to the Delta Quadrant, that she had been a viper all along.
“Oh, Chakotay.” Rissa commiserated silently as she betrayed him, left Voyager and aligned herself with their enemies.
Tears filled her eyes as Seska told Chakotay that she bore his child and Rissa could feel the wound that brought his soul. Not just the realization that his flesh and blood could very well be in the hands of one of the most cold blooded people he’d ever known, but also the blow to his own self esteem.
How? She heard him wondering. How could I not have seen this in her?
But he was strong enough to push the anguish and self doubt down and to carry on with his duties. He battled to integrate his crew into the Starfleet vessel and led the way by demonstrating his unswerving loyalty at each junction. Only he, and now Rissa, knew how he agonized each night over the fate of his child.
His relief at the discovery that the child wasn’t his was also kept private, although he knew some of his new friends on Voyager suspected. Now all he had to do was to put the memory of how Seska had so thoroughly deceived him and learn to trust in his judgment again.
It helped that there was someone new. The Starfleet Captain who seemed to be as noble as she was beautiful. And Chakotay was drawn to her far more strongly than he’d ever been to Seska. Even Rissa couldn’t fault his choice this time, for Janeway intelligent, resourceful, compassionate and confident. In short, she was everything Rissa had ever hoped to be and she was worthy of Chakotay’s interest.
Then Rissa’s sympathy roused again, because the Captain wouldn’t allow anything at all to come of their attraction! And it was obvious to Rissa that Janeway was as attracted to Chakotay as he was to her. What a fool! The woman could have had it all, but she rejected such a wonderful man, simply because she was afraid of the impact it might have on the command structure.
Didn’t she know that her crew trusted her implicitly? That they would willingly follow her to hell and back? How could she hide behind such a thin excuse? How could she hurt him more?
Couldn’t those silly women see what a fine person he was? Why, if Rissa had known someone like Chakotay existed when she was a child, she’d have probably re-thought her vow to remain childless!
:See,: A voice that didn’t belong in her dreams sounded softly in the back of her mind. :You do like him.:
Rissa frowned blackly, and angry denial on her lips that emerged as nothing more than a muffled groan of protest.
:No!: She denied vigorously. :No, I won’t, I can’t!:
Chakotay roused at her gentle groan, and came fully awake as she muttered an inarticulate protest. Rolling over without crushing her was tricky in such tight quarters, but he managed it.
Her frown remained, deepened even, and she was shaking her head at some unpleasant vision. Half asleep, but unwilling to ignore such distress, he gathered her into his arms and pulled her close to his chest, murmuring something vague and soothing. His hand ran down the silky brown hair, which had escaped from its functional braid hours earlier. and she began to relax, sighing something in her sleep.
Chakotay plunged back into a slumber that was deep and dreamless this time. Rissa too slipped into a deeper, dreamless sleep, nestled in Chakotay’s arms with a contentment that would have horrified her if she were awake.
The harsh shriek of a tropical bird jerked the two awake at the same moment. Chakotay’s arm was draped over Rissa waist. Rissa’s hand was clutching the loose material of Chakotay’s shirt. They jerked apart as guiltily as if they’d been caught necking by their parents.
Their attempts to extricate themselves from the sleeping bag, and the tent, without further contact, wouldn’t have been out of place in a Three Stooges festival. When they finally stumbled out of the tent, red faced, and disheveled, they could hardly look at each other.
“This is ridiculous.” Chakotay growled irritably. “Ngylm is still running us around in circles and I’m tired of it.”
“And just what are you going to do about it? Challenge Ngylm to a duel?” Rissa wasn’t exactly sweetness and light at the moment herself.
“I don’t know!” Chakotay shouted. “I just don’t know.”
He stalked off upriver, heading for the tiny waterfall. Rissa watched him go, a mixture of frustration, sympathy and anxiety warring within her. He was sliding again emotionally, she could feel it in the back of her mind. Whatever Ngylm had done to give him the veneer of control yesterday was gone and Chakotay was no longer trustworthy. She knew he’d never hurt her purposely, but she also knew that he was going to be hard pressed to make any rational choices at all, very soon.
She sighed, raking her long hair out of her eyes, and headed for the banked campfire, expertly stoking it back to full flame. She used the bar of soap she’d found earlier and the water that had remained warm in the embers of the fire, and cleaned herself up a little. When Chakotay returned to the campsite, hair and shirt damp from the cool water, she was had a plate of food ready for him.
“I’m sorry.” He told her before accepting the food. “I don’t know what got into me.”
But he did know; they both knew, and they were both nervous about it.
“Don’t worry about it.” She advised him briefly, turning her attention to the fruit she’d portioned out for herself. She bit into something with a pale peach flesh, and closed her eyes for a moment in pure delight.
“These are great!” She smiled at him, catching a trickle of juice with one finger. “What do you call them?”
“Mangos.” He replied, seeming almost mesmerized by her delight.
“I’m sorry about your brother.” He told her abruptly, the dreams that he knew weren’t really dreams surging forward in his mind. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes were grave, and the pale yellow fruit she’d been about to try was replaced on her plate, untouched. “It was a long time ago, although it still seems like only weeks sometimes. I can remember things, about my time with Ngylm, but they’re like dreams.” She sighed sadly.
“No,” she amended, “they’re more like nightmares.”
“Tell me.” Chakotay urged. “The more I know about it, the better our chances to fight.”
“I don’t know how to explain it; I mostly remember images, emotions, just flashes here and there, no real continuity.”
“Do your best.” He pressed.
“Ngylm isn’t like us.” She began slowly, thoughtfully. “It’s autonomous, completely self-sufficient, it doesn’t understand concepts like love and self sacrifice. It doesn’t understand us. It’s on a different plane of existence, almost.”
“Sounds like Q.” Chakotay observed sourly, tossing down a half eaten pineapple slice. “Except that even Q has other Q to keep him in line.”
Rissa shook her head, completely confused by that comment.
“Never mind.” Chakotay smiled wryly. “Q takes a lot of explaining even for those of us who’ve met him---I’ll try to clarify it later. Right now I need you to tell me more about Ngylm.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you---I think that Ngylm was being truthful with me. It can’t propagate, and if we will commit to demonstrating a human family unit, it will release us to Voyager and simply observe.”
“Not good enough.” Chakotay growled. “How do I know it won’t try to hamper Voyager’s return to the Alpha Quadrant? How do I know that its word is good? Its been manipulating us since the moment it took my shuttle, and I don’t trust it.”
Rissa had a sudden, overwhelming image of a forest---an evil looking creature threatening Chakotay, and she felt Chakotay’s rage, hatred, and-----shame?
“What---?” She looked at him, concern and confusion evident on her face.
“You saw that with me.” Chakotay stated grimly.
“I felt it too---but I don’t understand it---it was just a glimpse.”
“How? What the hell is going on here?”
“I’m sorry.” The figure of Jean Luc Picard strode up to their campfire and frowned down on the two seated there. “I didn’t know that this would be a side effect of the experiment, and I couldn’t have foreseen how you would resist the pressures of pon far. This is becoming quite unhealthy for both of you.”
“What?” Rissa asked, knowing that it was all Chakotay could do to keep from jumping up and throttling this manifestation of their nemesis. “What side effect are you talking about? What have you done now?”
“This isn’t my doing.” The alien said, using Picard’s most reasonable voice. “It’s a by product of pon far.”
“Ngylm,” Rissa sighed in exasperation. “I have no idea what pon far is, let alone what side effects it might have. Could you please try to make your explanations understandable?”
“Pon far is a Vulcan condition---and Tuvok was in the middle of it when I intercepted the shuttle.” Rissa’s glare made it clear that Ngylm still had some explaining to do.
“Every seven years a Vulcan male must, in essence, take a mate or die. Tuvok has been away from his mate for over seven years, and he was looking for a place to die that wouldn’t put his crewmates at risk. As the condition grows more and more severe, the Vulcan becomes more and more erratic and, eventually, a danger to everyone around him.”
“Okay, that explains the Vulcan’s problem.” Rissa accepted thoughtfully. “And even explains some of the mood swings Mr. Chakotay has had, but what does that have to do with me?”
“Vulcans are a telepathic race.” Chakotay managed with a pretty good imitation of calm. “When they mate they also meld mentally---it’s my understanding that this mental link isn’t broken except by death.”
“Exactly!” Ngylm seemed relieved to have the explanation out.
“So? We aren’t mated.” Rissa’s dark expression revealed a certain, dark foreboding.
“I---ahhh----“ astonishingly enough, Ngylm appeared to be almost embarrassed. Rissa’s suspicions grew darker. “I opened a link between the two of you while you slept----just to facilitate your understanding of each other---but it hasn’t closed back up like I planned it to.”
“Then make it close up!” Chakotay snapped.
“I can’t.” Ngylm said flatly, but Rissa still felt its embarrassment. “Rissa’s mind has been altered by her proximity to me for so long, and yours has been altered by the mandates of pon far. I would be just as likely to cause permanent mental damage as I would be to close the link. In essence, you two might as well be mated, and mated in the full Vulcan manner. I’m-------“
Ngylm was silent for so long that both humans wondered just what was so hard for the powerful alien to say.
“I’m----sorry.” It finally managed to say, before vanishing into thin air.
“Well!” Rissa blinked, wondering if she’d just experienced an extremely encompassing hallucination.
“Did I just hear Ngylm apologize to a “lower life form”?” Chakotay demanded incredulously, dashing Rissa’s hallucination theory into pieces.
“I think so.” She admitted cautiously.
“And what do you think? With those “feelings” that you claim to have?”
“I think it’s really sorry.” She confirmed in a wondering voice. “I think it’s really surprised to be feeling sorry, too.”
“Not half as surprised as I am.” Chakotay countered dryly. “But I’m still inclined to be suspicious.”
“Then why did you ask?” She demanded, stalking off in a huff.
She went to the supplies stacked neatly outside the tent and rummaged through them, locating the paper and pens that she’d set aside the night before. With them in hand, she strode off, acknowledging Chakotay’s peevish shout not to stray too far with a negligent wave of her hand, until the came to a semi-secluded spot where she settled herself on the ground and began laboriously recording her experiences to date. Her writing skills were nowhere near as developed as her reading ability, so her words were large, shaky, and mostly misspelled, but the narrative was still clear enough that most people could understand it. More importantly, the activity soothed Rissa, clearing her mind of the unaccustomed frustration and anger from earlier.
Not that Rissa was some cheerful, saint-like person. She had a temper, and she had been known to vent it in some pretty spectacular explosions, but the irritation of this morning wasn’t her style. She hadn’t gotten to the point of realizing that her anger was merely an echo of Chakotay’s, but she would soon.
Meanwhile, Chakotay vented his frustration by throwing rocks into the river, setting up targets on a boulder and knocking them down with a well aimed stone, and, of all things, a cleaning frenzy at the campsite. He didn’t question his consuming need for physical activity, he just accepted that he needed to indulge that need because he REALLY didn’t want to know what would happen if he didn’t.
But nothing could keep either of them from thinking about the other.
“Intruder alert!” Tuvok snapped into his combadge, his phaser trained on the being who appeared to be Captain Picard. “Security to my quarters.”
“Now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, I need some advice.” Ngylm/Picard said briskly, helping himself to a seat, crossing his legs, and steepling his fingers in a way that was pure Picard.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Tuvok replied tightly.
“It will help your friend, Chakotay.” Ngylm coaxed.
“No.”
“Very well, we will wait for your Captain to arrive.” He sighed, his expression making it clear that Tuvok had deeply disappointed him, and in a personal way.
Tuvok, however, had regained full control of his emotions with the removal of pon far, and ignored the blatant emotional blackmail easily.
Janeway beat the security guards to Tuvok’s quarters. She had received Tuvok’s initial call to security as a simple security protocol. ANY intruder alert about her vessel was routed to her combadge at the same time that it went to security. Janeway was nothing, if not fanatically protective of her ship.
“Tuvok?” She demanded breathlessly, bursting into the room on a computer override command.
“It has not threatened me or Voyager in any way, Captain.” Tuvok answered her unvoiced question immediately.
“Fine, then maybe I can get some answers---and my first officer back.” Janeway turned purposefully towards the intruder, masterfully masking her shock at seeing Captain Picard.
“I need Tuvok’s assistance.” Ngylm said blandly. “I have had some---unexpected outcomes.”
“I need my first officer back.” Janeway was unyielding, her face could have been carved from stone. “THEN we can discuss helping you.”
She also carefully hid her sinking heart at the phrase, “unexpected outcomes”. Had Chakotay been harmed in some way?”
“Chakotay is unharmed, as of now.” Ngylm assured her, easily picking up on the worries she tried to hide behind her professional “Captain’s” mask. “But a telepathic link has opened up between him and the female. Instead of her calm helping him, his darker emotions are affecting her. Since he remains stubborn about cooperation, I am concerned that this link will harm both of them.”
Ngylm’s face was expressionless, but Janeway was an astute observer. She immediately picked up on the dichotomy of Ngylm’s previous cold-blooded threat to kill hundreds of crew members on the Enterprise, and its sudden concern for two individuals.
“Why do you care?” She demanded shrewdly. “You’ve demonstrated yourself to be perfectly willing to kill humans in the past, why the sudden change?”
“I----like---the female.” Ngylm was obviously uncomfortable to be using a term of emotion, but it forged on boldly. “I do not wish her to be harmed.”
Janeway and Tuvok were both nonplused, but Janeway’s mind raced over the possibilities. Granted, Ngylm seemed to care for this woman more like a master for his pet, but affection was affection, and it was exploitable.
“You do not need to look for ways to “get to me”, Captain.” Ngylm countered, confirming Picard’s claim that it read human thoughts easily. “We desire the same thing at this point.”
“I don’t think so.” Janeway argued grimly. “I want my first officer restored to his former, healthy, condition and returned to this ship.”
“I have already offered to release them to Voyager, although I’ve made their cooperation with my experiment a condition of that release.”
“No conditions.” Janeway grated, exhaustion and worry combining to make her temper even more volatile than it usually was. “I want him back, now!”
“You do not understand.” Ngylm’s tones of reason only served to enrage Janeway more, but simple logic kept her from exploding. “I cannot reverse the condition, at least not without risking the mental stability of both of them. They must comply with my original requirements, for their own safety. More importantly, the Vulcan must teach them how to manage this connection between them.”
“Captain.” Tuvok interrupted Janeway’s immediate, and instinctive, refusal before she could speak. “Do you remember what happened when Ensign Vorik went through pon far?”
“How could I forget? He and B’Ellana nearly killed each other.”
“Because he initiated a preliminary meld with her---it opened a link between them that caused her to experience emotions and drives that were nearly identical to Vorik’s. A Vulcan mind meld is a powerful thing, not to be lightly dismissed.”
“What are you trying to say, Tuvok?” Janeway pushed an unruly strand of hair out of her eyes and focused tiredly on her security officer.
“I am saying that Ngylm is correct. Chakotay and Rissa require my guidance to see this event through to its conclusion.”
“So you’re saying that Ngylm has succeeded in bonding them irrevocably? That nothing can sever the connection?”
“No.” Tuvok seemed embarrassed, in the restrained way that Vulcan’s were masters of. “Separation is possible, simply very rare. But a separation cannot be attempted at this point without threatening the lives of both.”
“Damn!” Janeway rested her head in her hand for a moment, cursing the Doctor for being right about her exhaustion, Tuvok for being so stolidly logical, and, most of all, Ngylm for creating the whole tangled mess to begin with.
“Fine.” She decided finally. “You can help, Tuvok, but---!” She held out an upraised hand as Ngylm appeared about to whisk them both off. “But you will do it here---I don’t want anymore of my crew disappearing into your laboratory, Ngylm.”
“I don’t think that would be wise, Captain.” Ngylm and Tuvok spoke in unison, much to each of their amazement and dismay.
“What now?” Janeway demanded with considerable frustration.
“Chakotay will be in a highly unstable condition by now. If he was exposed to the general crew of Voyager it could be----dangerous.” Tuvok explained.
Janeway, knowing how to read between the lines of Tuvok’s cryptic comments, understood that he was more concerned about the danger to Chakotay than being concerned about Chakotay being a danger.
“Do you know what you’re saying?” She demanded, unwilling to bend on the issue of allowing Tuvok to waltz off with Ngylm.
“I do.” Tuvok’s steady brown gaze made it clear that he not only understood the risks, but that he was determined that this solution was the only way.
“Very well.” Janeway’s lips pressed together tightly after she said those two words, as if they’d escaped against her will. Perhaps they had. “But I want him back in an hour!” She quickly added.
“Six.” Ngylm countered.
“Six.” Tuvok concurred.
“Six.” Janeway sighed, surrendering to Tuvok, not Ngylm. “And make sure you bring them all back in six hours.”
“If it is feasible.” Ngylm agreed placidly, vanishing with Tuvok before Janeway could open her mouth again.
Captain’s Log: Personal
I have just had the most unsettling encounter with Ngylm, an entity that once threatened the Enterprise in the Alpha Quadrant.
Unsettling because, I allowed it to remove my security officer and good friend, Tuvok. Unsettling because, Ngylm actually asked permission, instead of simply taking. Unsettling because, I have no idea what to make of this radical change in the creature’s character.
Is it a ploy? But why would an alien with that much power need ploys to deal with creatures as obviously limited as ourselves? Then again, why ask when it never has before, and obviously doesn’t need our permission now? Why not simply engulf us, as it did the shuttle and the Enterprise, and take what it wants?
Are human considerations rubbing off on it? Has watching Voyager for the length of time that it has claimed made an impact on it? All I have are too many questions, no answers, and not enough sleep.
I never thought I’d say this, but I almost wish Q was here right now. At least Q can be reasoned with; understood in his own, omnipotent sort of way. Ngylm is a loose cannon, and I don’t like loose cannons in my universe.
*sigh* I’m going to follow Doctor’s orders, for once, and get some sleep. In six hours I might just be able to make sense of this… If only Ngylm hadn’t taken both of my most valued and trusted advisors at once… I really need someone to talk to right now.
“The woman is there.” Ngylm pointed to the spot down river from the campsite where Rissa slowly printed out her narrative. “The male is there.” He then pointed upriver, to where Chakotay was failing miserably at every attempt to knock down stick targets, using a stone and a sling.
“I need to speak with the woman first.” Tuvok informed the alien. “She will be key to their eventual control of this condition.”
“Very well.”
Once again, Tuvok found himself abruptly moved from one place to another with no warning. He controlled irritation with the ease of long practice, and moved towards Rissa. At least Ngylm hadn’t placed him right next to her, which would have undoubtedly frightened her badly.
“Hello!” Tuvok called while he was still a reasonable distance away from her. He’d noted her apprehension during their brief encounter on the shuttle and had correctly guessed that she wasn’t a good person to surprise.
“Go away, Ngylm!” She called back, not lifting her head from her task. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I am Tuvok, not Ngylm.” Tuvok continued his approach, settling himself across from Rissa on a boulder. She glared at him.
“I’m not playing your games today.”
“I am not Ngylm.” Tuvok repeated calmly. “And I will prove it to you shortly.”
“Why are you here, then?” Rissa realized suddenly that the Vulcan truly was a Vulcan; not by his lack of emotion---Ngylm still didn’t counterfeit emotion well----but rather by the fact that she was sensing emotions from him. Very well controlled emotions, but emotions nonetheless.
“I am here to help you and Chakotay. Ngylm didn’t know what he was doing when he created this situation, and now he has unleashed more than he can handle. You and Chakotay have become bonded mentally in a fashion that I, as a Vulcan, am intimately familiar with.” Tuvok told her bluntly.
“How can you help?” Rissa was skeptical. “It seems to me that we can only muddle through at this point.”
“Without the framework of Vulcan mental disciplines, your “muddling through” is likely to kill both of you. The mental connection between the two of you cannot be severed without great difficulty. Right now, it would be foolish to even attempt to break the bond. If, however, you are able to use your half of the bond to impose clarity on the chaos of Chakotay’s mind, we might be able to attempt an unbinding in six months or so.”
“I can affect Chakotay’s mind? How? I won’t manipulate him, you know!” Rissa questioned and warned all in one breath.
“This is not manipulation, except in a fashion that frees Chakotay’s mind to make clearer decisions. You cannot alter his thinking or what he feels, but you can project calm and peace to him and decrease the overwhelming emotions that drive him.” Tuvok paused, considering his next words in his methodical way.
“Have you been edgy and irritable lately?” He asked her perceptively.
“Yes.” She admitted cautiously.
“That is the impact of the link---if nothing else, you need my help to control that, or the situation will deteriorate further.”
“How do you intend to help me? How long will it take for me to learn these---disciplines?”
“I can plant the knowledge of them into your mind with a simple mind-meld. It is how Vulcans have traditionally passed down this knowledge through the generations. If you were a Vulcan female your mother, grandmother or an aunt would have taught you this before your seventh birthday.”
“I’m not a Vulcan.” Rissa countered unnecessarily, “and I’m not too keen on someone else walking through my mind.”
“I will not trespass on your private thoughts, Rissa, this is part of Vulcan mind etiquette that we are also taught at a very early age. I will simply transfer the information you require.”
Rissa frowned, but she was also considering; remembering her uncharacteristic testiness, her constant sensation of being on edge. In the end, her desire to control her own thoughts won out over her desire to keep her mind completely private. After all, hadn’t Chakotay and Ngylm both invaded her mind already?
“Very well.” She agreed unhappily.
“This will go better if you are as fully cooperative as possible.” Tuvok warned, not unaware of her reservations.
“I am being as fully cooperative as possible.” Rissa returned with icy dignity.
“Very well.” Tuvok wouldn’t sigh, being Vulcan and above such displays of emotion, but his voice somehow managed to convey frustration anyway.
At any other time, Rissa would have smiled at the self-deception he employed. Now, however, she was trying hard not to flinch as Tuvok reached towards her face and gently placed the fingers of one hand on the temple and the cheek just next to the nose. She felt a mild pressure, somehow making her think of a knock on a door, as Tuvok began to murmur;
“My mind to your mind; my thoughts to yours…”
And as she struggled to lower mental defenses that she didn’t even know she had, Tuvok was suddenly a part of her mind, and yet still a distinct person.
:Rissa, do you hear me?: He asked silently.
:Yes.: She replied in that same silent way. :This is----odd.:
:Not for me.: Somehow Tuvok’s customary dryness came through in his mental “voice”, but Rissa also detected a rather wry smile attached to that comment. In the real world, her lips twisted into a return smile.
:Rissa, this is how you must order your thoughts.: Tuvok went on briskly, a trace of urgency coloring his thoughts. He kept the knowledge of what prompted that urgency to himself, however. :This is what Chakotay is feeling; what you must help to soothe and order.:
She reeled physically with the information overload. Knowledge, feelings, orders all dumped into her mind like an avalanche, and for a moment she felt almost as though she was drowning. Then she began sorting through the information, literally at the speed of thought, and it all began to settle gently into place where she knew she could retrieve it later, should she need to. In the meantime, she looked at the techniques and meditations that Tuvok had scrupulously downloaded into her mind.
Some she dismissed out of hand. She wasn’t interested in suppressing all emotion, and she knew that it wouldn’t be healthy for her to try. But to control and channel emotions, especially right now, that interested her deeply. She was so preoccupied with sorting through this new knowledge that she totally missed Chakotay’s arrival.
When Tuvok had initiated the mind-meld with Rissa he’d known that Chakotay would undoubtedly sense it through the link that was open between them. He’d also known that Chakotay’s condition would probably cause him to perceive the link as a threat. And his assumptions turned out to be completely correct.
He had an instant to be grateful that Rissa seemed to be capable of sorting the experiences that he’d dumped on her by herself, before he turned his attention to Chakotay---who just happened to have wrapped his hands around Tuvok’s throat. Tuvok responded by putting the fingers of his free hand onto Chakotay’s face, in the familiar meld positions, and to choke out the familiar phrase.
“My mind to your mind---“ He couldn’t get any further, the pressure on his throat was too great, but it was the mental procedure, not the verbal that initiated contact.
:Chakotay, it’s me, Tuvok!: he thought urgently at his friend. :I am not a threat to you! I’m here to help!:
:Liar!: Chakotay thought back, his mental voice tinged with red. :You can’t have her! She’s mine!:
Rissa suddenly realized Tuvok’s predicament, and wondered briefly what to do. Then, following Tuvok’s lead, she placed her hand on the other side of Chakotay’s face and joined with Chakotay’s mind. She entered the link just in time to hear that declaration, and almost chuckled at the irony.
:Chakotay, Tuvok speaks the truth, he is not your enemy.: She told him soothingly, beginning to apply the techniques Tuvok had given her. :He came to help.:
:No!: Chakotay insisted, all reason driven from his mind by the emotional overload of pon far. :He’s trying to take my mate! And you are helping him!:
Tuvok’s oxygen supply was beginning to fade, in spite of his lungs’ ability to process oxygen more efficiently than a human. Rissa increased her efforts.
:Think, Chakotay!: She urged him. :Tuvok is your friend. You mustn’t kill him. The pon far has made you paranoid, but you can overcome it. You can control your rage. Try!:
:T-Tuvok?: Chakotay questioned doubtfully, his grip easing slightly.
:Yes! It is I.: Tuvok agreed fervently.
:Yes!: Rissa seconded. :Look at him! He’s your friend.:
:It isn’t Ngylm, tricking me?: He demanded uncertainly, but his grip eased even more, allowing Tuvok to inhale a lungful of desperately needed air.
:No.: Rissa assured him. :I would know if it was; and I would tell you.:
“Tuvok!” Chakotay suddenly let go of the Vulcan, breaking the meld between the three of them. “I’m so sorry! I---I---“
“Do not concern yourself, Chakotay.” Tuvok advised him, his voice hoarse. “I understand completely the insanity of pon far. You are not responsible.”
Chakotay looked away, his face haggard and his shoulders tense.
“I don’t know how you handled this.” He muttered grimly. “I don’t know if I can.”
Tuvok and Rissa exchanged worried looks.
“Chakotay,” Tuvok began gently, placing a hand on Chakotay’s shoulder. “If you will let me, I can show you how I dealt with this, but I must warn you that I couldn’t have done it without my wife, T’Pel.”
“Then you can’t help me.” Chakotay returned firmly, his face set and forbidding. “Because I don’t have a wife, and I’m not about to get one.”
Rissa stepped back, gesturing for Tuvok to follow her. After one last, regretful look at the man he’d come to help, Tuvok joined her.
“Go back to Voyager.” She told him softly. “I’ll try to talk some sense into him.”
“I have not accomplished what I came to do.” Tuvok protested stiffly.
“Can you reach him without his cooperation?” Rissa demanded logically. When Tuvok finally shook his head “no”, she repeated;
“Then go back to Voyager. I’ll have Ngylm summon you if I can get him to see reason.”
Tuvok gave a reluctant nod, and just as quickly vanished. Rissa made her way purposefully to where Chakotay stood, stiff and rigid.
“Sit down.” She told him, tugging gently at his arm.
“I think I should leave.” He countered, edgy and resistant.
“No.” Rissa was firm, although her voice was gentle. “We have to talk.”
“No.” Chakotay was just as firm. “It won’t do any good.”
“Chakotay, if you walk off then I’ll simply follow you. I said we have to talk, and we’re going to talk!” Rissa had her hands on her hips, her blue eyes were flashing and her still unbound hair swayed slightly as she glared at the man.
Chakotay found himself struggling to hide a grin; he was less than intimidated by her militant stance. But he knew better than to let her know, so he sat down on the boulder Tuvok had vacated earlier, and fixed an attentive look on his face. Rissa, undeceived by his surface amiability, all but stamped her foot with frustration.
“Damn it, Chakotay!” She burst out, standing directly in front of him. “This is no laughing matter! You’re getting worse, and I don’t want---“ She broke off, looking away and biting her lower lip.
Chakotay’s amusement vanished in an instant, but he misunderstood her hesitation.
“You’re in no danger from me, Rissa.” He assured her seriously.
“Ooooh!” She burst out, angered beyond bearing by his obtuseness. “You---you---male!”
She glared impotently at him for a moment, while he struggled to figure out where he’d gone wrong.
“I don’t want you to die, you cretin!” She ground out angrily. “And you’re going to if we----if you don’t----“ Once again words failed her, but this time it was because she was quite shy, thanks to her father and brother’s overprotectiveness.
Chakotay sighed and looked away, understanding her perfectly this time. Truthfully, he had no answer for her. He knew better than to offer the optimistic, and unrealistic, platitude that everything would be okay. He knew she’d probably go ballistic if he insulted her intelligence like that. But he simply couldn’t bring himself to give Ngylm what it wanted.
Sensing that, Rissa turned around to face him.
“I had a dream once.” She told him, crystal tears that she refused to shed shimmering on her lashes. “About a man, who loved a wonderful woman. And the woman cared for him too, but she wouldn’t allow them to have a relationship. She pushed the man away and pushed the man away, and even if she sensed how badly she was hurting him, she still wouldn’t relent. You know what, Chakotay? I know how that man felt.”
She grabbed his shoulders, and leaned forward to press her lips against his. Why, she wasn’t sure, just that it seemed the right thing to do. She thought maybe a quick taste of what they were missing and then she’d leave, but it didn’t work out that way.
Chakotay, caught off guard by her sudden move, felt remarkably like he’d just been struck by lightning. And then some primitive part of his brain took control and he swept her into his lap, deepening the kiss. If he meant to punish her, to frighten her by taking this to a level that she’d never experienced, it failed miserably.
Rissa had never been kissed, except for the familial pecks of her brother and father, but she trusted Chakotay instinctively. Perhaps it was the link that Ngylm had inadvertently forged between them, but she knew that regardless of how angry he might be, he’d never hurt her. So she threw herself willingly into that kiss, following his lead, picking up pointers from his surface thoughts.
They were both trembling with need when Chakotay finally mustered the willpower to break the kiss and push her firmly away.
“No.” He managed to say, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I can’t---we mustn’t---“
Fire lit in Rissa’s blue eyes again, but it faded just as quickly as it came.
“Fine.” She agreed sadly. “Be a martyr. I’m going to take a walk.”
And she left, as fast as her wobbly legs would take her. Chakotay watched her stride off, his body responding uncomfortably to the sway of her generous hips, the swish of her waist length hair, and wondered just what the hell he thought he was doing.
*****
HOME |
Voyager's Logs |