Disclaimers, ratings and warnings are in Part 1.
THE BADLANDERS
PART
TWENTY FIVE
They
were back on the Neruk making their way to Earth. Kathryn and Chakotay now
shared a suite, the other Voyager survivors again in their assigned quarters.
Tuvok, with his wife T'Pel and four children joined them as well.
"It
is our wish to leave Vulcan and journey with you, Captains Janeway and
Chakotay," he stated impassively.
"You
don't know what our lot will be, Tuvok. We may have to return to the
Badlands."
T'Pel
spoke, her eyes slanted, beautiful and aloof.
"Tuvok
has spoken that there is much work to be done in the Badlands. We wish to be of
service."
"You
are already doing a great job," Chakotay replied, knowing that T'Pel was
also a scientist at the Institute.
"My
bond mate will always serve under you, Captain Janeway. I follow him. It is what
we wish," she replied, looking at her children.
Chakotay
had nodded, knowing that it was pointless to argue with a Vulcan. Now they had
six of them. No, eight of them, he amended mentally. Another Vulcan with his
mate also wished to join. Chakotay shook his head in some sort of disbelief.
Vorik and T'Resa looked eager, young and ready to tackle their new horizons.
Suddenly everyone thought the Badlands was a good place to be. It wasn't. It was
ridden with plasma turbulence, bad clouds and the occasional displacement waves
from which they kept very, very far. Already a Cardassian vessel, one Starfleet
vessel and a few smaller Maquis ships had been sucked in by the displacement
waves never to be heard of again.
Yes,
it was bad in the Badlands. Yet, the Vulcans and a few other ignorant people
thought it was a good place to be.
"Good.
Our road is difficult. I have committed many crimes. I am not a good man -
"
"Your
memories were taken from you with force and evil implanted in you. That makes
you a...victim, Captain Chakotay."
They
had many things on their plate. He had told Kathryn about the data pad in his
small trunk and she had given it to Paris, Locarno, Kim and Dickson. The four of
them were already somewhere on Earth or
in its orbit investigating his theories. Only, they weren't theories. It was
blatant evidence of the murder of a ship. Somewhere
they were to meet up again. But right now, the most urgent task was to get to
Phoebe.
He
remembered how Phoebe had looked scared when Owen Paris eradicated his memories.
She was there and even though she laughed at times when he screamed in pain, he
sensed that she was scared. Either that, or Owen Paris intimidated her like he
intimidated everyone in his path. Was there something else they didn't know? Was
Phoebe really that bad? Kathryn had always spoken of how Phoebe resented her,
and hated that their father showered Kathryn with so much affection.
And
once again, Phoebe lay at the heart of their most important mission -
their life, their hearts and souls.
"Kathryn..."
he murmured as she shifted uneasily in her sleep. She had been restless all
night and he had kept awake, comforting her.
"I'll
be fine, Chakotay," she whispered, but she had given a soft sob and he knew
that she was crying, trying not to make a sound or to upset or disturb him.
He
pulled her closer and wanted to die again from the familiar feel of having her
in his arms, smelling her, tasting her. Two years he never remembered. Two years
in which he committed all manner of foul atrocities. Two years that started
right here in the Alpha quadrant. Even if he committed those crimes because he
was "not himself" as Kathryn claimed the very first time she came into
his life again, he was still accountable for them. How could he look Megan
Delaney again in the eyes? The girl, when she had boarded the Neruk, had been
scared to look at him, and hadn't known how to react.
Saying
"I'm sorry" didn't nearly make things remotely right. He sighed. He
could only look at her, and the words had somehow choked in his throat, refused
to exit as complete and utter expressions of remorse.
"I
know you want to say you're sorry, Captain Chakotay," she said with the
saddest eyes imaginable. "It is just still so difficult for me to -
to..."
She
had stammered, then rushed away in tears.
At
least, he thought not without bitterness, she didn't scream her outrage at him,
or swore that she would get even, or take revenge.
"Give
them all time," Kathryn had told him tearfully in their suite. The porthole
had become suddenly the only anchor, holding his hands flats against it, and
staring into the darkness without speaking. He had been uncommunicative and
Kathryn remained stoic. Whatever he was going to be subjected to - scorn,
derision, hatred, naked aggression, she would have to take it with him and it
wasn't fair.
Yet,
he couldn't leave her now that she found him again. He just couldn't, even
though he believed that the best way for him to move forward now, was to move
without her, to save her pain, humiliation, embarrassment.
But
Kathryn had come a long way to find him.
Almost,
almost, she had died too. If he hadn't seen that starboard nacelle blowing
first, he would never have had the time to transport the few he could manage to
get on the Liberty. Before his very eyes - he had been too long in Starfleet,
too long a tactical expert not to see that the ship was under attack, not from
the Maquis, but Starfleet itself - he knew that the ship was being sabotaged.
They meant to destroy and kill the entire crew.
He
knew it was Starfleet, sensed it instinctively. The ship had announced itself as
Voyager under the command of Captain Janeway.
He
had stupidly asked Kathryn, "How do you know my name?"
But
Starfleet used an old Cardassian combat ploy: leave no survivors. They tend to
haunt if they survive.
And
that's when he began the recording and started to transport anyone still alive.
Kathryn
was among them. He closed his eyes tightly, tried to shut out the images of how
he beat her with his belt. He saw again the way her body shook, bounced off the
mattress, the way she just turned her face away from him and let the blows rain
on her body. He had torn much of her flesh from her that day.
Something
had driven him to do that, something about Kathryn that wouldn't leave him from
the moment she looked into his eyes in the cargo bay of the Liberty. She was
going to be his undoing. And just how much of his undoing was later manifest in
the way his body started to ooze, the headaches, the feeling of faintness, of
breathlessness and feeling he would collapse at any second.
Now,
all he wanted to do was to atone, to pay penance without knowing how to. His
heart was dark with pain, deep, brooding tones of unholy terror that he knew
would haunt him forever. She needed only to know that he kept awake so that he
could give her comfort and not because he was afraid of ever falling asleep
again.
In
his sleep the Megans, the Tuvoks, the Dicksons, the Jennys, the countless young
women and men he violated, killed, sold into slavery, would visit him and taunt
him with their memories.
He
sighed. Just so long Kathryn thought it was so she could rest. He was okay with
that.
He
kissed Kathryn softly, felt how her breathing had become even and restful. And
so he lay holding her, staring out the porthole where the dimness of the distant
stars waved and pointed fingers at him.
**********
"We
must thank you, Captain," Kathryn said to the Neruk's Commander, "for
bringing us here. However, I must impose on your generosity again."
"Anything
that you wish, Captain Janeway."
"The
rest of the survivors must please remain on board and not contact their
families. I understand that we have all been listed as dead with the destruction
of my ship. Also - "
"We
concur that it would not be in your interest for the moment to make your
presence known."
"Thank
you. I am glad you understand."
Chakotay
was glad when the two of them could beam down. They were both in Starfleet
uniform, a move they thought would not be too much of a shock as wearing Maquis
gear would be. Then they could be phasered out of existence once and for all for
the second and third and fourth time. They had a medical tricorder, a scientific
tricorder, one phaser and one site to site transporter between them. It would
have to do.
"Ready?"
he asked her, his heart thumping so wildly that he wondered if he was going to
collapse again.
"My
heart is pounding in my ears," she admitted as she looked up at him.
"Oh,
Kathryn, we're almost over the last hurdles..."
He
saw how her lips moved as if in prayer. Was she imploring a higher power to let
everything work out for them? Because he had no knowledge of what happened to
Kathryn after he had been purged of his memories, he had to rely on her to guide
him. Somewhere there was another story to tell and at the core of that story lay
Phoebe Janeway.
"Indiana
is beautiful this time of the year..." he murmured as he looked around him,
the autumn leaves creating golden
carpets all over the grounds.
"Oh,
God...please help us today..." Kathryn pleaded.
The
homestead stood in the distance, the tall shed closer to them than the main
house. They could see smoke spiralling from the chimney. For the first time they
were aware of the cold. His toes felt like ice blocks. But even the cold didn't
deter him from moving closer and closer, keeping behind Kathryn.
But
Kathryn wasn't rushing. It seemed to him that she was afraid to take another
step and another step towards their destination.
Then
she stopped in her tracks as a backdoor opened and a figure appeared. They were
standing perhaps twenty, twenty five metres away, but he could see the likeness
between Phoebe and Kathryn. At least Kathryn's instincts brought her to the
right place - her home in Indiana.
Phoebe
stepped on to the back porch. They moved forward.
"Hello,
Phoebe..." he heard Kathryn say. Phoebe stood, unmoving, her arms crossed.
"What
do you want."
"You
know why I am here, Phoebe. Please, let me see them."
"You're
dead. To me. To them."
"Owen
is a sick man, Phoebe. Surely you must know that?"
For
a moment Chakotay saw the flicker of something across Phoebe's attractive
features. She knew about Owen. She was his accomplice. He should go and strike
her down with one blow.
"They're
mine, Kathryn. Owen gave them to me."
"He
had no right. No right at all. He - "
"Phoebe,"
he started, trying to give Kathryn time to collect herself. "Owen used them
as hostages to get Kathryn to come after me. That's true. She knew I was still
alive. She knew that it wasn't necessary to do enter the Badlands. But Owen used
threats, used extortion to get Voyager to enter the Badlands. He blew up the
ship, Phoebe. He meant to have every single crewmember on Voyager killed.
Everyone, you hear? That way he would have you and the children to himself.
Surely you know what kind of man he is, what he did to Tom?"
Phoebe's
eyes had widened when he spoke of Voyager's destruction. She looked uncertain,
way too much under Owen Paris's control, still too much in his clutches. Already
their appearance was a shock. Certainly she never expected to see Kathryn again.
Poor
girl.
Then
the backdoor flew open.
Two
children moved past Phoebe and stepped off the porch.
Chakotay
heard Kathryn's rapid intake of breath. He heard his own painful, sharp gasp
that seemed to originate from deep in his chest.
Their
lives, their souls, the reason for their very existence stood before them. Eight
years old, born on Ketarcha, the only place he and Kathryn ever felt safe from
Owen Paris.
Ethan.
Blonde, blue-eyed like his mother, like Tom and Nick.
Lainey.
Tanned, black haired, blue-eyed, resembling him.
Both children stared at them, longingly, incredulously, afraid to move. One hesitant step forward. Stop. One more step...
Kathryn's
voice seemed to come from a great distance to him.
"And what shall we call our babies, Chakotay?"
"Names not associated with family..."
"I like 'Ethan'", she declared firmly as she kissed her baby boy.
"Lainey will be our little girl's name then," said he, kissing the top of Lainey's head.
"Oh, Chakotay, how will we keep them safe? Please?"
"We fight for them, Kathryn. One day, we will emerge victorious..."
The
children stood just off the porch, still in their pyjamas and gowns. Chakotay
felt the prick in his eyes, the tears that fell without decorum, the sudden
blurring of his vision as the boy stepped hesitantly forward, touching him with
uncertain fingers.
"Papa?"
And
out of the corner of his eye he saw how Lainey flew into her mother's arms.
"Mommy!"
********************
END PART TWENTY FIVE