Disclaimer: For the record, Paramount owns them. But in the immortal words of our own Sr Mary Kathryn, "In the end no one will care who owns them."
Rating: NC-17, or R at least. Shocking! J/C! Love, angst, mush abound! I'm sure Charlotte Bront� would be horrified at a reference to her great and timeless novel, Jane Eyre, but she's still dead as far as I can tell, so I think I'm safe for the time being.
P.S. If you don't think our intrepid Captain would ever blast the Prime Directive, this story ain't for you.
Special thanks to Kelly, who read an early draft and gave me countless suggestions that allowed me not only to expand, but finish this monster. Shore leave came about specifically at her request. Thanks, Kelly!
Feedback Please! This is a first fanfic attempt!
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Second Sun
Kathryn stared out of the viewport in the deserted messhall formerly known as her dining room, forehead pressed against the cool glass. Her face was set in stone, reflecting none of the torments raging just beneath the surface. She had finally, irrevocably broken Starfleet's number one rule, made an inexcusable breach in protocol for which she would never forgive herself.
She had denied the Prime Directive in an effort to rescue two of her crew. Two of her crew who were part of her family, and for that reason they were now bearing the brunt of her silent isolation. B'Elanna and Chakotay.
One, like a daughter, a sister, a friend, all rolled into one brilliant, conflicted package. A confidante in ship's business, a listener in times of personal turmoil. B'Elanna had become so much more than *Captain Janeway* would ever have allowed, but *Kathryn* had never even noticed the barrier of captainship minutely breaking down. One day they were Captain and Lieutenant, the next they were kin.
For years Kathryn had called the ship's crew family, and had done her best to make it a tight knit group of survivors. She had succeeded, and in the process, inadvertently included herself as the resident icon of worship, commander-in-chief, and den mother. Always one to keep in tune with her crew's needs, she had found no difficulty in getting to know them and learn what made each of them tick. For some it was easier than others, but with B'Elanna, it seemed she had no trouble at all. Not that she knew everything about her; it was more that she intrinsically understood her klingon-human engineer's struggles and triumphs effortlessly. She found B'Elanna infinitely interesting and oddly comforting, and for that reason sought her out and kept her close at hand whenever circumstances threatened to bring hers and the crew's morale down.
Kathryn had become a vessel for all of B'Elanna's simultaneous uneasiness and joy in the klingon's blossoming relationship with Tom Paris, and she had welcomed the distraction. B'Elanna poured herself out to her captain without a second thought, confessing her greatest fears with complete and total trust. Kathryn, in turn, took in every word with an understanding smile and an outstretched hand. There was nothing like observing a newfound love between two people she cared for so much, and aside from occasional events of less than stellar discretion, she saw little to object to. In fact, she relished watching the two grow and learn from one another, and found herself envying their partnership.
Partner. The word evoked one image in her mind. Chakotay.
Herein rested the other half of her problem. Chakotay was the other crewmember she had rescued while thumbing her nose at the Prime Directive. A sworn enemy who had worked his way, sometimes silently, other times like a raging bull, into every crevice of her heart. At this point there was no denying her love for him, and in this her dilemma was centered. She had rejected him time and again, believing pointlessly that if she kept him physically away from her he would somehow not get too close. She was wrong. She could barely imagine living without him, and had even gone so far as to tell him so. Never intending to let her better judgement escape, she had remained at a respectable distance, and all the while her spirit leaned toward him closer and closer, a flower reaching toward the sun.
Occasional disagreements cooled the air between them briefly, but the charge returned each time stronger than ever. Even after he disobeyed her orders regarding the Borg, she found herself inevitably drawn back under his spell once more, missing the warmth of his smile, the genuine pleasure she took in his presence. Before long things were mended between them, and she dreamed each night of Chakotay's solid body beneath hers as she called his name in choked whispers. The mornings came, and she faced him without blush or shame, knowing that he dreamed of her as well, and that perhaps one day she would truly know the feel of muscle and bone and skin caressed by gentle hands under cover of darkness.
Nearly a month before, Voyager had happened upon an M class planet rich in valuable ores and vegetation, and was blessedly populated with an advanced, warp capable species. Keltin was a beautiful planet with six seasons, two moons, and two glorious suns rising and setting less than an hour apart. Two sunsets and two sunrises a day made for gorgeous evenings and dawns, and for a change, Janeway decided shore leave was exactly what she needed.
Spring had sprung on Keltin, and after a few hours of arguing with herself, Janeway asked Chakotay to accompany her for an afternoon of relaxation. Recent events had removed any doubts about betraying Mark, and while she wasn't in any hurry to take the relationship to a higher level, some of her fears had left her. Chakotay readily agreed, and they decided to try out some of the markets along the main thoroughfare that wound through the capital city.
The temperature was ideal, reminding both of early April in San Francisco. As they playfully recounted their academy adventures in the old California town, they lingered in the colorful marketplace and picked at foreign cuisine. At one point, Kathryn turned around to find Chakotay absent from her side. He'd been practically glued to her hip for most of the morning, but figured, *He'll find me eventually.* She was right. Only minutes later he reappeared, an expression of angelic innocence written across his face.
"And where've you been, might I ask?" she questioned.
He grinned. "Can't get anything past you, can I," he answered, conveniently evading the question.
"That's why I'm the captain." She feigned indifference as she fingered scarves hanging from a nearby stall. "You didn't answer me, Commander. I asked you a question." She turned her head, and blue eyes drilled into him.
He caressed the scarves her hands had recently touched, and again avoided her query. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know." Her interest reminded him of another day, another place, where she had wheedled him mercilessly about a project he was working on in the woods.
Now she was glaring at him. "You're not going to tell me, are you."
"Nope." He just smiled, and attempted to focus his interests on everything around him except the woman staring so intently at him.
She shook her head and tried to smother the grin creeping out from under her stern exterior. Stinker.
The rest of their afternoon passed all too quickly, as they explored countryside and cityscape alike. As the day crept toward evening, they decided to end their leave at a beach to watch the suns set. Waves crashed against the sand as the suns followed each other closer to the horizon. Chakotay and Kathryn strolled along the dunes barefoot, silent. Both welcomed the peace the setting afforded, and reveled in the quiet companionship of the day.
They settled atop a soft, white dune fashioned from sands finer than any Kathryn had seen in her days on earth, and she watched the granules drain though an open hand. A scent reminiscent of night-blooming jasmine perfumed the air. Movement caught her eye, and she spotted two tiny lizards chasing each other into the reeds swaying nearby. She smiled. She could not have planned a more perfect day.
"Kathryn." He broke into her reverie.
"Hmm?" Her eyes followed the lizards skittering though the sands.
"When I was gone this morning... I can tell you what I was doing now."
He had her attention. "What?"
He reached his hand into a breast pocket and drew out an object still hidden from her view. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
"A surprise." She paused. Her curiosity was back in full force, but she tried in vain to keep it in check. "You know how I feel about surprises, Chakotay."
"I know." His dimples were growing deeper by the second. "I couldn't help it." He held out his hand and a strand of silver spilled out, falling easily into her palm.
"Chakotay." She didn't even look closely at it, only beamed at him, feeling so much she couldn't even begin to express it. Finally she tore her gaze from him to peer at his gift. It was a silver chain that moved like liquid, shining brilliantly in the light of the setting suns. A small pendant was hooked onto the chain, and she turned it over in her hand. A lizard. The breath left her in an instant.
She jerked up sharply to meet his eyes. He saw her shock and misconstrued it for dissatisfaction. "What is it? Don't you like it?" He was hurt, and no amount of masking his expression could hide it.
She whispered to him, "Why did you buy this for me?"
"Kathryn," he hesitated. "Haven't you seen the lizards? They're all over the place. I saw the pendant and thought of you. I thought you'd like it; it seemed to fit you..." Cutting himself off, he reached for the chain. "You don't have to take it if you don't want it..."
She jerked her prize away from his grasp. "No!" He couldn't know of her animal guide. Impossible. He just thought it would be a nice gift, and that was all. Wasn't it? As she looked to him again, tears were in her eyes. "I love it. I love it so much, Chakotay. It's wonderful."
Her reaction puzzled him. Tears were not what he was aiming for, but there they were, gleaming in the soft light. He stroked her arm, offering comfort for whatever it was that troubled her. "Are you sure?"
She took a long breath and nodded her head. She held it out to him. "Will you?" He took it from her and admired the graceful line of her throat as she offered it him. He roped the silver round her neck and adjusted the pendant to rest lightly between her collarbones. It shone against her skin, and he ran his fingers along the liquid metal, caressing her softness in the process.
"Beautiful." Reluctant to remove his hand, he instead slid it upwards to massage her shoulder gently. He cautiously ventured a look at her face, and her eyes were closed. She was so close he could feel the warm puffs of air as they left her mouth. His eyes darkened. The hand resting on her shoulder continued its caress as her head tilted back, encouraging him. He was riveted by Kathryn, and as if she could sense he was watching, she drew her lower lip between her teeth and slowly released it. Nothing short of ripping his clothes off could have been more seductive at that very moment, but it wouldn't have been nearly as memorable. Well, almost, but not quite.
She half opened her eyes, their pupils huge, and leaned into him to rest her forehead against his. His hand smoothed along her skin, fingers threading through the hair at the base of her neck. Gradually the distance between them disappeared, and she touched his lips to her own for the first time. Sweetness flooded through her at that moment, and they kissed as the blood pounded against the tiny lizard guarding her heart.
Chakotay wanted the kiss to last an eternity, and they drew it out endlessly. They sat on the beach, touching, kissing, holding each other, promising more, ignorant of the changing colors of the sky. As he pulled back to the smooth the hair away from brilliant blue eyes, he saw nothing but Kathryn. She was smiling, one hand cradling his cheek tenderly.
She felt peace. Complete, utter peace. What she had longed for had arrived.
Chakotay turned his mouth to her palm, and caught a glimpse of the ocean view in front of them. He wondered at the changes that had taken place in the past few minutes. One sun had already disappeared, and the other was about to touch the horizon as innumerable colors swirled around it. Her gaze followed his and she breathed out in amazement. Together they sat, his arm around her shoulder, her hand grazing his thigh, and they watched the second sun sink quietly into the sea.
They made their way back to Voyager in relative silence, knowing words would come later. Somehow he managed to leave her at her cabin door without kissing her, whispering only, "Goodnight, Kathryn. See you in the morning."
"Count on it." One hand ran discreetly up his thigh, and she slid seductively into the darkness of her quarters. He stood there a few seconds to get his bearings, forgetting momentarily that his own door was a scant few meters away. He didn't realize she hadn't made it much further into her quarters than necessary to trip the door's sensor. She stood alone, trying to slow the uneven rhythm of her heart, trying to resist the temptation to turn back and drag him inside. *Too fast and you'll ruin things, Kathryn. You have plenty of time, remember that.*
Had she known what was to come, that evening would have ended differently.
Unknown to Kathryn, four days into their stay, Chakotay conned B'Elanna into crossing into another county of Keltin on a reconnaissance mission. A personal one, but B'Elanna was happy to oblige. They had every intention of bringing a holos of the planet's many vistas back to Voyager, and Chakotay was going to formulate them into a spectacular program for Kathryn to have as a remembrance.
In their travels, they had run across an enormous, circular building. There was no roof, and thirteen bays overhung the walls, shielding them from bad weather. The building seemed abandoned, so they ventured a look inside. The walls were covered with mosaics of infinite colors, intricately made up of tiny tiles arranged into amazing designs.
"Wow," B'Elanna exclaimed reverently. "This was unexpected."
"You said it." He took readings from the structure, and noted age of the building. "It appears to be hundreds of years old. Wonder why it's empty?"
"Doesn't matter. Let's get some recordings of this place, and then we can hit the road. I'm ready to go home." B'Elanna proceeded to scan the building's illuminated walls with her tricorder and Chakotay did the same with his holo-recorder.
"Ah, she's gonna love this," Chakotay said, almost under his breath.
B'Elanna snorted. "She?"
He flushed, and grinned. "Yup."
"Good for you, Chakotay. It's about time." They wrapped up their readings and headed out the huge doors of the building. As they crossed the threshold, four armed guards grabbed them. Immediately B'Elanna fought back, shaking off one of the men and planting a well-placed right jab in the face of the second.
Chakotay was struggling, but he held back for the moment, preferring to inquire as to why they were apprehended instead of fighting. "B'Elanna! Wait a minute-" She looked at him, not understanding his reluctance to fight.
"We didn't do anything, Chakotay!" The slight break in B'Elanna's concentration allowed one of the downed guards an opportunity to cuff both of her hands. "What do you want, p'tahk?" she spit at him.
Chakotay turned to one of the men holding him. "What is this about, please, we didn't mean any harm."
The man's eyes softened momentarily, but his gaze hardened in a split second, and he countered, "You have violated one of our sacred temples, a place of worship and veneration. The uninitiated cannot enter, and it appears you have even gone so far as to take images of this temple with you. That is forbidden, and you must pay the consequences."
B'Elanna resumed her struggle. "But we didn't know! How could we?"
The guard holding her shouted, "That is not a valid excuse!" He glanced over at the men holding Chakotay. "Cuff him, and let's go." They did as they were told, and B'Elanna and Chakotay were lead off into the darkening night, both wondering what exactly the consequences would be.
Late in the afternoon search teams were sent out when it was clear that Chakotay and B'Elanna were nowhere to be found. After three hours of searching, a Keltin ambassador finally reported that the officers had been apprehended for breaking one of the Keltin's vital principles: they had illegally crossed the boundaries of the capital city and taken images of an apparently sacred place. Unfortunately there was no way they could have known that their journey was out of bounds, or that images were not allowed to be taken. There had been no conflict in this first contact whatsoever, and the crew had easily traded for food stores and necessary minerals to help keep Voyager running smoothly. Kathryn pleaded with Keltin's highest officials, but ignorance was no excuse, argued the Keltin prefect. Chakotay and B'Elanna were to be tried, judged, and depending on the outcome of the trial, found innocent and freed, or placed in a high security prison for the minimum sentence: three years.
Days of argument with the high council of Keltin did nothing to sway the prefect's decision. Chakotay and B'Elanna were quickly tried, and of course, convicted. Ignorance was their only defense, and that had already been rejected. There was nothing to be done, except to leave two of her most vital staff, and beloved members of her family, behind.
She attempted barter, begging, even bribery, but nothing helped. After hours of negotiation, Janeway was granted a last meeting with her comrades before they were placed in prison, and even with an entire lifetime of losses behind her, those final ten minutes were the most difficult and painful she had ever experienced.
She stepped quietly into a darkened cell, earthen walls surrounding her. It was cool and damp, and the idea of abandoning her people to this foreign land was torturing her to the marrow of her bones. Chakotay's name ran endlessly through her brain, and no amount of Vulcan concentration techniques could stop it. She was desperately trying to steady her breathing when Chakotay and B'Elanna were escorted into the cell. They looked well enough; no signs of mistreatment were visible. Kathryn made no move toward them, she only stood woodenly, as if the roots from the earth beneath her feet had grown up around her, paralyzing her.
B'Elanna was the first to step forward. "Captain, I..." Her face crumpled, and the pain etched in her eyes shattered Kathryn's resolve. She practically leapt into B'Elanna's arms, clinging to her dearly.
"I don't want to leave you here, B'Elanna," she cried, and her eyes found Chakotay's speaking to her eloquently, soundlessly. He followed B'Elanna's path forward to envelope both of them in his strong embrace, his lips pressed tightly to Kathryn's forehead. The Captain of Voyager stood shaking like a leaf as she held her crew members in her arms, praying to the gods above to end her suffering. There would be no stoic good byes, no final dry eyed salute to her lost mates as she left them behind. The thought of leaving was taking its toll, and it was more than Kathryn could bear.
"I can't do this," she choked out, shaking her head at Chakotay.
He suddenly grasped the arms still enfolding B'Elanna, gripped them harshly. "Yes, you can, Kathryn. You have to leave us-" his voice broke mid- sentence, and tears spilled out and fell into B'Elanna's hair. "You can't stay, and we can't leave. Remember your promise to your crew--"
"You are my crew!" she hissed. She was gasping for breath now, nearly sobbing, shivering in the damp air.
He sighed. Reached for the control he wanted to give her. Found it, if only for a few more minutes. "Captain," he was careful to use her title, "you have to go. Now. You'll never forgive yourself otherwise."
B'Elanna looked up at this, into the eyes of her mentor, one of her dearest friends. She swallowed, and pulled away slightly, moving closer to Chakotay. She was nodding.
"B'Elanna and I talked about this, Captain. You have to go. We have to stay." He moved a hand to the hollow of her throat, and slowly pressed down with the base of his palm. He found what he was looking for, under her uniform jacket, under her tunic. His gift was there, hidden beneath the layers of cloth, and at the moment it was a brand searing Kathryn's skin.
"We'll be with you, always."
Another presence invaded their space without warning and stepped between the prisoners and their Captain. He spoke in a gruff voice, "Okay, that's enough. Out." Chakotay and B'Elanna were jerked from her arms roughly and pulled to the open door leading back into the prison. Kathryn watched their faces as they were lead away, and in her memory she saw another pair of loved ones being dragged to their doom right before her eyes.
She was broken, finally, and there was no question as to what must be done. Janeway stood alone again in the empty cell, waiting to be lead back into the light of two suns that would somehow seem dimmer than they had only days before. It was over now. The decision was made. She was leaving, and she wouldn't look back. Not once.
She returned to the ship wordlessly. The crew were crushed, but they knew that no amount of discussion would change the mind of their Starfleet Captain. They read the cost of the decision stamped across her features, face drawn tight and creased with lines that seemed to appear overnight. Her eyes were bloodshot, and no amount of makeup could hide the red rims around her eyes. There was absolute silence when Janeway returned to a strangely populated alpha shift on the bridge. "Alpha Quadrant, Mister Paris, warp six." No sounded issued from the pilot's lips, but she was sure she heard his spirit die as they left the only woman he'd ever loved behind to live out her days on a lonely planet, surrounded by enemies and prison bars. Paris could have dealt with the loneliness in his own time by joining her in exile, but his request was rejected by the high council without possibility of appeal.
A blanket of despair settled on the ship, one so palpable Janeway could feel the weight of it resting squarely on her head, and heart.
They made it exactly two hours.
During those two hours, Janeway saw herself as she would be in a month or two with perfect clarity. In bed, under the covers, ignoring her alarm for the eighth day in a row. Deep in the throes of a self-inflicted depression, she would pass the hours in a haze, consumed with guilt, loss, and desolation. The ship would reflect her grief ten-fold, and there would be no escape from it, or the knowing eyes of her crew.
As she sat unseeing on the bridge, a burning began in her stomach as though a fire were consuming her, feeding off of the nothingness that was left inside. Physical pain shot though every nerve, and she was having trouble breathing regularly. She was hot, her thighs burning. Could Paris hear the rasps of her breath? Could he tell she was in as much pain as he was? Attempts at blocking out the loss were half-hearted, and the numbness she'd expected to feel had not made an appearance. She remembered the sensations well, even after more than fifteen long years. Kathryn never thought she would relive the pain of losing her father and fianc� in one fell swoop, but here it was again, albeit in a different context.
For one hundred seventeen minutes of those two hours on the bridge, Kathryn Janeway actually believed she would leave Chakotay and B'Elanna behind. Then she had a thought: "What if we just went back for them?" The idea had barely occurred to her, so heavily was she steeped in Starfleet. The option of disregarding the Prime Directive was always in the back of her mind but wasn't really considered. Until now.
The final minutes she spent debating with herself over proper protocol, trying to come up with a valid reason for retrieving her officers other than, "I couldn't let them go; I'd die, and the crew would die, and I couldn't just let that happen, could I?" She felt the seconds ticking by, the miles growing between her and her deserted family, the cord binding her to Chakotay pulled taut. Out of nowhere a line from an ancient, well read novel slid into her mind: "if...land, come broad between us, I am afraid the cord of communion would be snapped; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly." For Kathryn, the bleeding had already begun, and in an instant of white, pure, blinding clarity, she was absolutely certain she would not survive without Chakotay and B'Elanna. Brightness burst across her face, and at that moment, Kathryn decided to throw caution to the wind. There was no way she was going to live out the next sixty-odd years without Chakotay by her side unless he was physically ripped from her grasp and phasered into oblivion right before her eyes. She stood and stepped forward.
"Mister Paris, turn this ship around. Right now. We're going back."
Shock came at her from every direction. She heard Tuvok shift at his station, but surprisingly, he said nothing. Hands flew about consoles, a flurry of activity took shape around her, but Kathryn Janeway heard nothing but the beat of her own heart, and the firm voice of her father teaching her the merits of the Prime Directive.