PART FIVE

The turbolift doors to the bridge opened. Tom Paris craned his neck to see who appeared when he heard Harry's gasp. Ensign Hollily who sometimes covered for him at the conn and sat at her station to the left of him gave a small cry of surprise. 

He shook his head in wonder.

"I see B'Elanna didn't kill you, Commander," he said.

Chakotay was dressed in civvies and he held a bundle wrapped in softest pink in his arms. 

"Is she going to command the ship, do you think?" asked Harry who recovered from his surprise.

"Can I hold her, Commander?" asked Ayala.

Tuvok, who sat in the command chair, rose to his feet to confront the offending officer.

"It is against protocol for officers to bring infants on the bridge, Commander," he said stone-faced and Tom could swear he saw Chakotay actually sticking out his tongue at Tuvok.  Harry had quickly darted to the area just behind the command chairs to look at the baby. The baby had been crying. Tom knew that Carina hadn't stopped since she was born and only ever became restful when she was held by the Captain.

"Are you responsible for this one's crying, Commander?"

Chakotay gave Harry a stormy glare that made him jump back to the Ops station to resume long range scans of the dead expanse they were traveling through.

"The infant has not stopped," added Tuvok. "It is realistic to assume that it will - if it lives to be sixteen - continue to create mayhem."

"Now that's not very encouraging, Tuvok," Tom said without looking to see Tuvok's expression.

"Your daughter is a terrorist."

"Hey!"

At that moment the baby let out a loud wail. The bickering stopped instantly and everyone trained their eyes on the man holding the baby, wanting to see how he was dealing with the bawling infant. Chakotay's thunderous look changed quickly to softness as he touched Carina's cheek.

"Don't worry, sweetie. They're only jealous. We'll soon remedy our little problem, won't we?"

"Is that the Angry Warrior speaking?" someone - Ensign Gaertner - asked in hushed tones.

"Oh, my goodness..."

"Good to see you in better spirits, Commander."

"I'll be on duty again tomorrow, so don't knock it, Paris."

"Aye, Sir!"

When Chakotay stepped down the short stair to the ready room, Tom held his breath. Seconds after Chakotay entered, the pilot exhaled slowly.

"Go easy on the Captain," Harry whispered.

"Boy, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in there..."

***

Always, whenever he had a fallout with Kathryn, or major disagreements, she fled to her ready room. No other room on Voyager, not even the holodecks provided the same kind of centering it seemed to have for Kathryn Janeway. Sometimes she had been so moved by the passing of a crewman, or some trauma they experienced, that she'd come to this room and stand, like she did right now, near her viewport, hands behind her back, and gaze out. Her thoughts would be so far away that he had to cough or make some announcement of his presence for her to acknowledge that someone had invaded  her sanctuary.

Now, her command to enter the ready room had been soft, and even when still outside the door, he could hear the distance in her voice; he knew that she was off somewhere again, in a world where she  alone roamed and no one could know  or even hazard what she was thinking.

He hurt her so badly. He couldn't remember a time that the hurt could have been worse than it was now. Those times her command decisions or his defiance in complying, or the way he questioned the very mores in which those decisions were based, lay at the heart of that hurt.

Once -  the time that Ransom died and she had been briefly overtaken by a spell of madness in wanting the captain of the Equinox dead and threatening to kill Noah Lessing - he had seen Kathryn insulating her own trauma. Afterwards she had called it her guilt at crossing the line, her temporary insanity. Then she had lapsed into depression and it had taken a long time for him to help her find her centre again. He had stood by her side, even shook her hard when she had spells of guilt and self-recrimination.

It was always tough handling Kathryn Janeway.

There had been many of those episodes when he had needed her and she was there for him every step of the way. Then he had reveled in the way he could find rest and peace just through a simple touch. Kathryn's signature was touch, and he had seen her touch a crewman many times in solace, in giving reassurance. He had woken from a coma once to feel her hand resting against his shoulder, and he had sworn then that it was that tactile expression of her care and concern that sped his recovery, and that of other crew who were the privileged recipients of it.

Many were the occasions he had done the same for her. He had taken her sailing on Lake George after her near death experience and the entire afternoon on the lake, he let her be. She had not spoken; her eyes had become vacant and for hours she dwelled in her private realm until finally she spoke her first words. She had turned her attention away from the mushrooming clouds and the birds in the distance and the shimmering water and the slight breeze that just allowed the sails to billow and move them gently towards the clouds. Her eyes had been clear, the darkness and fear gone when she addressed him.

"I'm glad I have you, Chakotay..."

"I'm glad to see you smile again, Kathryn..."

The night before Seven died, he told her he wanted to know only one Kathryn. What he had with Kathryn Janeway transcended common bonds, and their friendship meant the world to him. If truth be told, he thought it to be more enduring than love, more meaningful and more destructive. They had sat through silences which, even as he was married to another person for three years, still had the ability to calm him, to fulfill him so completely.  He knew with terrifying finality, that he would never in all of creation, have that kind of relationship with another person.

He was blessed with such a friendship in which there were tears, there were fights, where the battleground was filled with bloodied shrapnel and God help him, some shrapnel was still lodged in him. But they stood together, squaring off, each one filled with the thought: can we repair this after the battle is over?

Like any relationship, friendship required to be worked at constantly and diligently. A relationship where one, inadvertently sometimes, inflicted hurt upon the other and the intense desire to be forgiven afterwards. The gift of absolution lay not in asking, but in the giving of that pardon. There lay the power of love, he thought.

Many times Kathryn had forgiven him and he had forgiven her; when they emerged from that crucible, their cauldron still dripped with the remnants of their battles. Then both could come away stronger, able to look one another in the eyes and say, "All will be well..."

"You're not a mother...her mother..."

How could he hurt her so? The words, irrational in their very birth as they sprung from his mouth, should never have been uttered. Kathryn Janeway was mother of all. There was not a single crewmember on this vessel who had not felt the power of her caring.

Even Seven of Nine...

Now, he prayed that Kathryn would forgive him.

She stood like she always did when deeply troubled. This time though, she wrapped her arms around her as if she were desperately cold and longed for the warmth to break the stranglehold of the ice that must have settled in her.

Carina whimpered and he watched awed as Kathryn's body stiffened, although she kept staring at the darkness through the viewport.

"Kathryn..."

When she turned and stepped down to his level, her eyes stole to the tiny baby in his arms. She moved, hesitated, then took a step back.

"Kathryn...please..."

"You want to use a baby to get to me, Chakotay?"

It was a low blow and he deserved it. Kathryn's eyes looked hollow. He couldn't remember seeing her cry. She had been close to tears many times, but actually losing herself in the luxury of tears? Now, it seemed her eyes misted over. A giant fist clamped round his heart and squeezed it hard. For a second he couldn't speak, the breath temporarily knocked from him.

"I know she's not mine, Chakotay," was repeated with such hollowness that he couldn't bear it. It tore at him, the moment the giant fist relinquished its hold on him.

"She needs you, Kathryn..."

"In the circumstances I don't think I - "

"I was acting like an unfeeling jerk, Kathryn. Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you, even to say what I said..."

Kathryn took a step closer again, her hand reaching to touch the pink blanket, then dropping to her side again.

"Sometimes, you know," she started, her voice so soft he strained to hear her, "saying you're sorry doesn't make things right...."

"I mean it, Kathryn."

"It's mere lip service."

Carina started whimpering again and Chakotay tried to rock her and quieten the fretful baby. She was hungry, she probably needed a diaper change, but mostly...

"She needs to be in your arms, Kathryn... if for no one else on this ship, please then, for Carina?"

"It's blackmail."

Kathryn wanted to walk away again, but she was drawn to the baby, her eyes never leaving the bundle in his arms. Funny how the child got heavier the longer he held her. The hollow look in Kathryn's eyes had turned to one of hunger.

"She has no mother, and no one else to care for her - "

"She has her father."

"I can't breastfeed her..."

A stunned silence followed.

"What - what did you say?" Kathryn asked, tturning pale at his words. He closed his eyes. It was now or never.

"Carina needs you, Kathryn. I  - " he started, not knowing how to continue. Carina's soft cries gave him the courage he needed and he pitched right in. "I understand from the doctor that you are lactating..."

Kathryn looked away, then at the baby again. Her eyes became soft, the darkness gone. Did a sheen come in her eyes?

"Yes...yes, I am... It's something I couldn’t understand. I've experienced the sensations the day she was born. I couldn't explain it then."

"Doc said it's been known to happen. Yours was the first face Carina saw when she opened her eyes and she - "

"She's not mine..."

He deserved his own words being thrown back in his face.

"I know. But she can be, Kathryn. Your heart is as big as the universe, and even as much as you hate her Daddy right now, you can't turn down her need to be helped by you..."

"I - "

"Please..."

He gave a sigh of relief when Kathryn nodded. He wasn't proud of his behaviour, but he knew she'd come through for the baby. Carina needed her and would die...

"I need an additional booster in two hours time to accelerate lactation and tomorrow morning I'll be ready..."

"Thank you, Kathryn..."

"Meanwhile, can I hold her?"

Chakotay's eyes closed and he felt a sting of tears as Kathryn took the baby from him. Carina became quiet almost instantly.

"She - she has committed your smell to her memoory, Kathryn. As small as she is, Carina..." He swallowed painfully as he opened his eyes to look at how Kathryn was holding Carina as if she were the most precious cargo in the universe. She had opened the receiver a little and he could see the baby's face too; watched how the tiny fingers clamped around Kathryn's index finger.

"What is it, Chakotay?" Kathryn asked, now quite distracted as she busied herself with entertaining Carina.

"She seems to know you..."

"Hmmm..."

Kathryn looked up at him and the picture of them - Kathryn Janeway, his closest and most intimate friend, and his daughter looking like mother and child - he'd remember for the rest of his life.

They were mother and daughter.

He was stunned as he listened to Kathryn talk to Carina and tell her that she'd be safely drinking mother's milk the next morning after her bath; that she must be a very patient little girl and drink some of the milk the doctor had replicated until her mother's milk can he ready. Then everything would be alright and she can blossom like any normal little baby into a healthy daughter for her daddy.

These words flew about him and he shook his head.

He had been so stupid, unable to cut through his own grief and see that his child needed him. B'Elanna was right. Even if he still grieved for years to come, he had to make his life among the living and who knew, one day - soon perhaps - the grief would dissipate and become just a faint memory.

Carina would know Seven of Nine as the mother who gave birth to her, but that mother was dead. There would never be a relationship for Carina with Seven of Nine, but there would be one with Kathryn Janeway and with B'Elanna and all the other women on board Voyager. Mostly, God willing, Carina would experience the blessing of bonding with Kathryn.

It was a moment in which he loved Seven all over again for her legacy to him and ultimately, to Kathryn Janeway.

Perhaps Seven was right in wanting to name their daughter for the Captain of the ship. Then again, he valued his friendship with Kathryn so deeply that he still couldn't bear, even if it were his own child, another person close to him with the same name.

There was for him only one Kathryn.

Only one.

"Don't worry so, Chakotay," Kathryn's voice broke into his reverie. "Carina will be well looked after. If it's okay with you that I - that I do this?"

"More than okay, Kathryn." He reached to cup her cheek as she had done so many times with him.

"Thank you. I promise I'll take good care of your little girl."

"I'm sorry about what I said, Kathryn," he said with his heart hammering against his ribcage.

"You were in pain."

"Still - "

"Let's focus on the baby, shall we?"

Kathryn spared him a smile before she busied herself with talking in soft tones to Carina, hardly aware that he stood watching them, and feeling quite stupid and stupefied. It was as close to being forgiven, he realised with a pang.

For the first time since Seven died, Chakotay's eyes were wide open. He could see clearly, the terrible fog that bogged him down and that clouded his vision and his judgment, lifted finally.

Kathryn Janeway already loved Carina as if it were her very own little girl.

And, he didn't mind it one bit.

********* 

End Part Five

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