The BLTS Archive - Asylum
by Kelly (rather_be_reading@yahoo.com)

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Disclaimer: The Trek universe belongs to Paramount. Unfortunately.

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"Computer. Start Visual File 'Phoebe Janeway. ' Personal
Communication; non-urgent channel. Authorization: Torres Beta Iota
One."

---

Hello, Phoebe. It's B'Elanna Torres. Well, I guess you can see that.

I received your message this morning. Thank you. Tom and I had read
about Captain Janeway's shuttle being missing, but you know how
informative those "official" Starfleet notices are.We really
appreciated hearing further details.

I know how hard this must be for you and your mother, to face this
same uncertainty again. The good news is that the Captain has a pretty
good record when it comes to getting herself home in one piece. I'm
not giving up on her yet.

Thank you for asking about Miral. She's well, and you're right, she's
three now. She seems to enjoy growing up on a starship; Tom and I like
it, too. A spaceship was our home for so long that we'd feel strange
living anywhere else.

I've been thinking about your message all day, especially your
questions about the Captain's relationship with Inspector Kashyk. Yes,
you've remembered him correctly -- he was the political refugee that
she took on board Voyager.

You'd like more details, you said. Well, it was during our fifth year
in the DQ that we first encountered his species, the Devorans. They
were paranoid about telepaths, and that's why he asked for asylum --
said he just couldn't face any more "extermination" missions.

Or at least, that was his story. He stayed with us for about a year,
and then he left. We never saw or heard of him again.

All right, I know what you're thinking -- you didn't mean these
details; you've probably already learned this much from the published
Voyager records. You told me -- you want the "real" story.

I understand why you think there must be more to it. I read the
Voyager Commission's final reports, too, and believe me, I know that
"official" Starfleet history is more memorable for what it leaves out
than for what it puts in. But in the case of Kashyk, there isn't much
more to say.

Starfleet got it right this time, at least in terms of the facts.

Really. They did.

Yeah, okay, I'm stalling. I admit it. But frankly, I feel
uncomfortable talking to you about the Captain and Kashyk. Not because
of what happened, because not very much did, actually. But if she
didn't or wouldn't tell you herself. . . well, I think it would
probably be smarter for me to keep my mouth shut.

But then, I don't always do the smart thing. You've brought a lot of
memories back, and it might not hurt to talk about them. If it will
help you.

Don't expect too much, though. I'm not very good at explaining my
feelings; I don't spend much time looking back or analyzing myself.
But I'll tell you what I can. For what it's worth.

You asked if the Captain was in love with Kashyk. Well, they were
lovers. And she certainly felt something for him. Love? Hell, I don't
know. But she needed him.

And he left her.

There's not much more to it than that, really. He just went down to a
planet one day on a routine supply mission, and he didn't come back.

Nothing dramatic happened to him. He wasn't attacked or injured or
kidnapped by vengeful Devorans. He simply came to the transporter
coordinates and told Seven of Nine that he would not be returning to
Voyager. Said he appreciated our generosity. Said he wanted to thank
us. And he handed her his comm badge and nodded his head and walked
away.

Then over his shoulder, he said, "Tell your captain I'm grateful."

That was it.

We stayed in orbit around the planet for another day while Janeway had
Tuvok and a security team look for Kashyk. As Captain, she had to
search, of course. He was a passenger under her protection; she'd
given him political asylum. She couldn't leave without making at least
some attempt to find him.

As his lover. . . well. I'm sure it was hard for her, although of
course she never let on. But sometimes I think about what must have
gone through her mind while Tuvok was checking with the local
authorities and questioning the trade negotiators and running scans.
She probably hoped Kashyk had been injured or taken prisoner or
something like that. Then she could have fought for him, mounted a
rescue, taken refuge in tactics and strategies.

In other words, done what she does best.

"Nothing" is not what she does best. As you well know. But in the end,
"nothing" is all there was.

Tuvok never found any trace of the man. Several freighters and other
ships left the planet's docking station while we were there; he could
have been on any one of them. Most weren't too careful about who they
let on board. Or about maintaining accurate passenger lists.

But at least the Captain had Kashyk's gratitude, right? Great. I mean,
the man shares her bed and her life for a year and then sends his
gratitude.

It's one hell of a last word.

---

I've been thinking about the first time I ever saw the Captain with
Inspector Kashyk. It was in the mess hall. Tom and Harry and I had
almost finished dinner when the two of them came in and found a table.

She went to get them something, coffee, probably, and I studied Kashyk
while she was gone. I was really curious, because I hadn't seen him
during the Devoran inspections; he'd never come to Engineering. It had
only been a day or so since he'd asked the Captain for asylum,
claiming that his conscience had rebelled against hunting telepaths.

At that point, we were still hiding the telepathic aliens, and I
remember I was angry about the whole situation. I told Tom I thought
the Captain was taking an incredible risk, letting the Inspector stay
on the ship when we were still so vulnerable. Tom said, "don't worry,
she'll have a plan, she always does. "Yeah, maybe. . . but I didn't
trust that alien for a second.

So I was glad of the chance to get a good look at him. He was
handsome, I suppose, if you like them arrogant. Younger than I
expected. He had this permanent smirk. I've seen Ferengi who looked
more reliable.

Even now, after all these years, I don't buy his defection story. I've
always believed he came on board planning to betray us, and that
something -- or someone -- changed his mind.

Someday maybe I'll ask the Captain what really happened. When she gets
home.

Well. Anyway. About that night in the mess hall. After Janeway came
back and sat down with Kashyk, I started thinking maybe Tom was right.
It looked like she did have a plan -- a plan that involved a lot more
than just asylum.

There they were, on opposite sides of a table, with computers in
between them, talking about nothing but algorithms and probabilities
and field theories, and yet the air was thick with sex. I don't know
how else to describe it.

Harry said it must be Devoran pheromones, and Tom laughed and said he
hoped the Captain wasn't going to turn out to be like Harry, always
falling for somebody totally hopeless. I laughed, too, but it really
bothered me, seeing the Captain so obviously attracted. It's not that
I didn't trust her command judgment, because I did. Well, ninety-nine
percent of the time, anyway. But this guy was such a potential danger
to the ship. And god, he was so damned smug.

When we got up to leave, Tom was still joking about Devoran sex, and
for a second I was afraid Janeway would hear him. But when I looked
over at her and Kashyk, I realized they didn't even know anyone else
was in the room.

I have to admit, I was surprised when Kashyk ended up staying
permanently on Voyager; I'd been so sure his defection was some sort
of trap.

But I was not at all surprised when it became clear that he wasn't
spending too many nights in his own quarters. He never actually gave
up his room completely; the Captain would never have allowed an alien
civilian to move in with her, no matter how often she slept with him.

And judging from the sensor logs, it was pretty damned often.

It was odd, seeing the two of them together. She never touched him in
public. Never. It was weird. I mean, we're talking about Kathryn
Janeway, somebody who can't speak to even the lowliest crewman without
offering a comforting pat on the back or a reassuring hand on their
shoulder. And here she was, treating her lover almost like a stranger.

At first I assumed it was protocol or professional decorum or
something like that. She kept their relationship pretty low-profile.
Not many people had been happy when Kashyk stayed on board; I wasn't
the only one who was disturbed by the fact that our Captain was having
sex with a formerly-hostile alien that nobody liked or trusted. I had
to shut up more than one gossip session in Engineering. And Tom
managed to find out that Tuvok had logged an official objection.

Probably protocol did account for a lot of the Captain's public
behavior with Kashyk. But to tell you the truth, I think it was
personal, too. Their physical attraction was so strong that she could
only control it by staying completely the hell away from him.

You'll think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. The air practically
crackled when they were together, there was that much electricity
between them.

She was different after he came, more settled. Not at peace, exactly.
I'm not sure that's possible for her; there will always be an edge to
Kathryn Janeway. But Kashyk gave her a reprieve, or something. I don't
know. I couldn't put it into words then, and I can't now. But he was
important to her, there's no question about that.

And then he was gone, and life went on, and that's the more or less
the whole story right there.

---

You wanted to know what Kashyk was like, if he was really the moral
hero Starfleet says he was. I can certainly see why they present him
that way - it's much better to let the public consider him a hero
instead of the big risk he actually was.

And he's a propaganda maker's dream, after all. The Starfleet Public
Relations personnel must have fallen over for joy when they learned
about him. Think about it -- here's a man dedicated to eradicating
telepaths, not for personal gain, but for principle. And after just a
few exposures to Federation philosophy, he turns his back on his
entire life and embraces the Star Fleet way. It's the sort of thing
the Fleet P. R. people live and die for.

But I think I've made it pretty clear by now that I don't think
ideology had a damn thing to do with Kashyk's remaining on board.

I know I said I never trusted him, but I've always believed he cared
about the Captain. I saw the way they acted together; I think he
needed her the way she needed him.

Okay, I know what you're going to ask: if she was so important to him,
why did he leave? I had no idea then, and I have no idea now. I was
completely shocked when it happened.

I was the one who beamed Seven up from the supply planet the day
Kashyk left. When she told me about it, I could hardly take it in.

I kept asking her all sorts of questions, and I have to say she
answered me fairly patiently. But she didn't have much to tell. Kashyk
had been alone. He had not seemed coerced or frightened or disturbed.

I kept saying, "But he must have had some other message for the
Captain. "

Seven just kept answering, "He did not. "

I ended up standing there in kind of a stupor, not speaking, until
finally Seven said, "Lieutenant. May I go now?" I nodded because I
didn't know what else to say, and she walked out.

She's the one who told the Captain that Kashyk was gone. I don't know
how she did it, what words she used or if she tried to be tactful. She
and the Captain had been close until Kashyk came; I know his presence
upset her. I just hope she didn't try to hurt Janeway by being blunt
about his leaving. Seven can be curt, but she's not a fool. She would
have known how painful her news was going to be.

Still, twenty-four hours after I beamed Seven back from the away
mission, Janeway sat on the bridge and calmly ordered Tom to set
course away from the supply planet, toward home. Tom told me afterward
that her voice had been perfectly steady; he said you'd never have
guessed it wasn't the most routine command she'd ever given.

And maybe it was, who knows? I mean, hell, it's possible that she's
the one who told him to go. Or maybe they both agreed to part, and she
promised not to say why.

It's possible.

---

I wasn't going to tell you this next bit, because it's really none of
our business. But it's so much a part of the story for me that I just
can't leave it out.

I said I never saw the Captain touch Kashyk in public. And that's the
truth. But I saw them together once when there was no public, except
for me.

I walked in on them in the holodeck. Yeah, the holodeck. Of all the
ridiculous old cliches, that's one of the worst: surprising someone
having sex on the holodeck.

But cliché or not, that's what happened. I was so busy thinking about
my new martial arts program that I didn't even glance at the deck's
"current status" screen. I just tripped the door and walked in.

I have no idea why they hadn't engaged the privacy lock. I suppose the
Captain could have just forgotten, but pardon me if I don't think
that's very likely. Perhaps she wanted the risk. Or didn't give a
damn. I don't know.

It was a bedroom program, Devoran maybe, or maybe just a fantasy. It
was dark except for some candles and a fire in a hearth, and there was
a bed draped with soft lengths of fabric that trailed their ends onto
the pillows.

But Janeway and Kashyk weren't using the bed. If I close my eyes, I
can still see them. Every detail, every flickering shadow. They were
on the floor, on a rug that glowed with soft, dark colors. They were
naked, but I could hardly tell, they were so completely entwined.
Kashyk was sitting with his back to me, his legs braced wide in front
of him. The captain was facing him, straddling him, her legs wrapped
around him, her hands clasped behind his neck. He must have been
inside her, but they weren't moving.

Kashyk had his hand in her hair, pulling her head back, and he was
slowly drawing his mouth along her shoulder. The Captain. . . her eyes
were closed and her lips were parted and she was breathing hard. The
firelight edged them, outlining up the long arch of the Captain's neck
and the sharp line of her cheek. I could see the faint glimmer of her
pale skin against Kashyk's dark back.

I stood there for what seemed like a long time, looking at that
picture and thinking vaguely that I finally had some idea of why
artists wanted to paint. It wasn't until Kashyk started to lower the
Captain onto the floor that I came to myself and realized how
completely visible I was.

So I got the hell out of there, and I'm sure they never knew I had
come in.

I hacked into the holodeck controls and put on a privacy lock from the
outside. I felt. . . I don't know. Nervous, maybe. A little stupid at
having gone in there in the first place. And angry. Angry that they
had been so careless, angry that she had made me see them together.
Angry that they were together at all.

And then all of a sudden, I felt like crying. It was absurd; I'm not a
crier and never have been. But at that moment, I had this sharp sense
that I'd lost something really important. It was another couple of
days before I recognized what it was: part of me wanted the Captain
for myself.

To say I didn't expect that is putting it mildly. Because there had
been a couple of times when I didn't even like her. She could make me
madder than almost anyone. She still can. But once I admitted to
myself what I felt, I could see that I'd been attracted to her
practically from the start, probably since that time during our first
year in the DQ, when she and I solved the Parallax problem, and I
realized what an exciting, brilliant scientist she was.

Chakotay always said -- and I'm sure he believes -- that Janeway was
like a mother to me. And for a while, I tried to think that, too. But
deep down, I knew I was fooling myself. I didn't want her to be my
damned mother. And you know what? I don't think that's what she
wanted, either.

---

I'm talking way too much, I know. But. . .

Hell, I'd better just get back to the subject of the Captain and
Kashyk. Like I said, there really isn't much more to tell. After
Kashyk left, life on Voyager went along the way it always had; you'd
never have known he had even been there. That was good for morale, I
guess -- no disruption of ship's routines or anything. But I still
felt disrupted; I just didn't want to let things end that way, as if
nothing had ever happened.

So about a week after Kashyk had gone, I cornered Chakotay. Maybe he
wasn't the best choice, given how strained things had become between
him and the Captain by that point. And given what he'd once hoped the
two of them would be to each other.

Damn. All right, he was a terrible choice. Stupid, unthinking,
whatever. But he was her First Officer, and once he had been her
friend. And he was -- he still is -- mine. I just thought he might
know something, that's all.

So I asked him. I parked myself at his table in the mess hall and
said, "Chakotay, how is the Captain? Tell me the truth. "

He just kept eating and reading a PADD. He said, "What do you mean?
She's fine. "

I wasn't about to be put off. I said, "What do you mean? She might be
coping, but she can't be fine. Whatever you might have thought of
Kashyk, he really mattered to her. And now he's left her. "

Chakotay scowled at me. "Don't be melodramatic, Lieutenant. It doesn't
suit you. "

I'd had it. I grabbed his arm with my fiercest Klingon grip and said,
"Damn it! Will you look at me? What's going on? Have you even talked
to her?"

He raised his head then, and I was surprised at how tired he looked.
His voice was quiet as he said, "I can't help her, B'Elanna. I don't
mean to sound harsh, but she's not the first person to lose someone.
It's hard, but she'll get over it. People do. "

I tried to keep my voice even. "Can't help her, or won't?"

He carefully stacked his plates and utensils on his tray before he
answered. "I assumed you already understood this, but since you
apparently don't, I'll try to explain. Here's how it works: I'm the
first officer. That means Captain Janeway is my responsibility.
Kathryn Janeway, on the other hand, is not. "

I said, "You can't separate. . . "

"Yes, you can. She does. She wants us to. The Captain. . . that's all
there is for us, and that's the way she likes it. If you really want
to know how she is, then ask her. But don't be surprised if she
doesn't appreciate your concern. "

He got up, but then he turned back and said, "Don't romanticize this,
B'Elanna. This isn't a tragedy, and she's not the heroine. "

---

A few days later, I came late into the mess hall and saw the Captain
sitting alone, reading the inevitable reports. I wanted to talk to
her, but I hesitated. We'd never been ones for exchanging girlish
confidences, and I didn't want to take the risk that she'd be able to
look into my eyes and see how I felt about her.

I don't know if people can actually do that outside of novels, but I
didn't want to chance it. Of course, no doubt Chakotay would have said
I was romanticizing again.

I felt silly just standing there being indecisive, so finally I went
over to her table and sat down. She looked up at me, and I blurted,
"Captain. . . I just. . . . how are you?"

She smiled. "Fine, B'Elanna. "

Yes, I know, it was a brush-off, but I wasn't upset. I hadn't really
expected anything else. I was even a little relieved, I think. I
nodded and started to get up, but she stopped me with a hand on my
wrist. "Thank you for asking. "

She meant it. I realized then that few people probably ever did ask.
Ask in more than common politeness, I mean. Ask and really want to
know how she was. The person, not the rank.

I don't mean that I agree with Chakotay. No, I think he was wrong to
believe that Janeway could completely split "the Captain" from
"Kathryn. " There wasn't one without the other. But they weren't just
a single entity, either. It was more like two parts of the same whole.
Back then, though, I'm not sure that we -- I mean the crew -- ever
fully understood that. Too often, we were content just to look at the
title and not bother about the woman who held it.

Oddly enough, I asked what you've asked. I said, "Did you love him,
Captain?" Honestly, I never intended to say that; it just came out.
And even now, I don't know which would have been harder to hear, yes
or no.

She didn't seem offended to be asked, but she didn't answer, either.
She made a little motion with her hand that she stopped almost before
it started. "He's not here," was all she said.

Huh? He wasn't there, so it didn't matter whether she'd loved him? I
wasn't sure what she meant, and I didn't know what to say next, so I
just sat there.

Then the Captain looked down at the table, and I could see by her face
the exact moment when she decided to say more. It was a conscious
choice; I don't think she ever had the luxury of being spontaneous,
except maybe in battle.

"Nothing is certain out here, B'Elanna. We can't count on any of us
being alive tomorrow, let alone count on one individual's presence. "

"You mean you expected him to leave?"

"I didn't expect anything. There are no expectations in the Delta
Quadrant. He was here every day that he was here, and then he was
gone. That's how it goes. One day and the next day and the next. It's
all right. "

"Then you don't mind that he's gone?" I said stupidly, cringing as
soon I heard myself.

She looked at me. She minded.

But she just said again, "He's not here, B'Elanna. " She gestured to
the people in the mess hall. "But you are, Neelix is, Chell is, all my
crew is. That's what I have now. "

"But is it enough?" I knew I was pushing, but I didn't care. I had sat
down with some hazy intention of helping her feel better, but I saw
then that what I really wanted was for her to comfort me, to assure me
that she was fine, that we could still count on her.

My god. Until that moment, I never fully understood how much we asked
of her.

She touched my hand and picked up her PADD. It was a dismissal, but
not an angry one.

I stood up. "I'm sorry, Captain," I said. And I was -- for asking, for
her loss, for the way things were. For what I would never have with
her. For everything.

She nodded, her face suddenly tight. When I looked at her from the
doorway, she had turned back to her reports.

---

"Computer. Save file 'Phoebe Janeway'. Start new file, 'Phoebe 2,'
same parameters, same authorization. "

---

Hello, Phoebe. Thanks for your message; Tom and I really appreciate
hearing from you personally. And thank you for asking about Miral.
She's three now and doing well. We all are.

We hated to hear about the Captain. I know how hard this must be for
you and your mother, but you know Captain Janeway. She's damned good
at getting herself home in one piece. I'm not giving up on her yet.

About Inspector Kashyk -- I wish there was something new I could tell
you, but really, there's not much more to the story than what you read
in the offical Voyager reports. Starfleet got the facts right this
time.

After Kashyk defected from the Devorans, he stayed on Voyager for
about a year. He and the Captain were involved for a while, and of
course she wasn't too happy when he left. But she wasn't a heartbroken
wreck or anything, so don't worry about that. She's pretty strong, our
Captain.

I don't know if she loved Kashyk. If she did, she got over him. People
do.

I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful, Phoebe.

Please let us know if you hear anything further.

Torres out.

---

"Computer. Send file 'Phoebe 2. '

"And erase file 'Phoebe Janeway'. "

---

End