The BLTS Archive - Lonely Hearts:
Shattered Illusions
by Lone Templar (eric_prenovost@hotmail.com)

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Disclaimer: I don't own them. Paramount holds all rights, titles, etc.
to the Star Trek: Voyager concept and characters.

Distribution: Ask and you shall receive. Just let me know about it,
ok?

Author's Note: Ok, you asked and you shall receive. I am absolutely
amazed at the responses that I've received concerning what I had
originally planned as just a short, angsty, one-shot fic. For those of
you that absolutely insisted that this piece continue, I figured that
having the Cardboard Cowboy as a pivotal character would be a
refreshing change of pace. Granted, he's not the best character on the
show to spotlight in this manner, but I still felt that he was
important. So I made him sort of self-centered to reflect this. I
figured that it would make for a more interesting read than any other
way. So, without further ado, here's Chakotay's contribution to the
story line.

Author's Note 2: Not Beta'd or proofread. Please forgive any errors or
typo's.

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I could read everything on her face when she finally found her way
back to the bridge. Kathryn may personify the very essence of the
powerful commander, but underneath it all she's still a woman, no
matter how hard she tries to suppress it. When the turbo lift doors
hissed open, her face was blank. She walked stiffly, her shoulders
squared and held back, her backbone absolutely rigid, and her hands
clenched tightly by her side. However, my people have a saying that
fits this type of situation fairly well: the eyes hide nothing. The
eyes truly are the windows to a person's soul, and Kathryn's were
screaming out a combination of pain, fear, anger, and betrayal. She
nodded once to me to acknowledge my existence before marching into her
ready room.

I sat there for a moment, lost in thought. I couldn't help but wish
that we had connected further when we were stranded on that planet
together. I know the pain that loneliness causes a person, and that's
what she was experiencing right now. But, we just weren't meant to be.
Oh, don't get me wrong. In the beginning, her eyes definitely held
that distinct look that women get when they observe me that marks
their interest. If I hadn't of been overconfident and thought that I
had all the time in the universe, I probably could have made her mine.
But I did take my time, time that apparently I didn't have. She closed
herself off to me when I had to disobey her orders concerning her deal
with the Borg. That single act of betrayal forever kept us apart as
anything other than Captain and crewman. Now, I can only watch her
with barely disguised longing and wish that I had acted differently.
Oh, I know that it's a futile wish. I have to follow my own path in
life, not another's. Kathryn is the same way. If we had managed to
become lovers, it wouldn't have lasted. We're too alike in that
respect. We each require absolute loyalty from someone who gets that
close to us, even if we follow our own hearts in regards to our own
actions.

Reaching the inevitable conclusion once again, I decided to brace her
before she managed to slide into another state of depression. Just one
more habit of hers that would have driven me insane, I suppose. She
takes every loss personally, even if she didn't have a single thing to
do with it. I know that it's a mark of a new commander, and it always
makes me wish that she had more experience in her rank. Instead, we're
trapped in the Delta Quadrant on her maiden cruise as a Captain on a
ship that's doing the same. I suppose that I should be grateful that
she's relatively inexperienced in being in absolute control over her
ship and crew. It's allowed my fellow Marquis members and I a certain
leeway that wouldn't be there in other circumstances. But, after
reading the log update from the command chair, I didn't think we
really had a choice. We needed her calm and in control, especially
after loosing someone who had been as close to her as Seven was.

That's something else that bothered me over the past year. Kathryn
went out of her way to secure the drone and to try to make her adapt
to our culture. I probably could have helped, but I just didn't see
the point. It takes four years of specialized training to become a
Starfleet officer. In order to succeed at that training, it takes over
a decade of living in the Federation to be able to cope with the
training. Seven, on the other hand, was severed from the collective
and forced to adapt against her will. Of course our society would do
nothing but confuse the poor woman. She was assimilated at the age of
six and freed at the age of twenty-four. Physically, she's now twenty-
five years old. Emotionally however, she's no older than seven years
old. Of the six years she spent as a human, she spent several as an
infant. It was hardly enough to allow her to adapt as an adult in our
society, much less the more disciplined atmosphere aboard Voyager. She
didn't stand a chance in hell of ever becoming a normal human being.
Children can recognize that special brand of innocence in each other
and are always willing to accept a new and interesting playmate, so
she'll fit in fine with them. Adults, however, will take one look at
the young woman and see another adult. No matter how patiently you
explain the situation to them, they will always treat her as an
extremely beautiful, arrogant, and cold woman. Those traits are not
what it takes to attract a mate, much less a successful position in
society. I'm not assigning blame to anyone, but it's a simple fact of
human nature.

Before this current mess began, Seven had come to me to acquire my
assistance in explaining her course of action to the Captain. The
young blonde wanted to return to her home, or at least as much of a
home as she's ever known. I knew that Kathryn would refuse to release
her, but the drone's plea for help touched my heart. I reluctantly
agreed to help her, but it didn't do any good. Kathryn absolutely
refused to consider how miserable Seven really was. To the Captain,
there wasn't anything that could compare to the thrill and challenge
of being human and she just wouldn't listen to any other arguments. I
could see the raw emotions dancing across that young face, but Kathryn
was oblivious. When we walked out of the meeting, I was the one that
told her that I wouldn't officially resist her if she decided on a
course of action for herself. The simple but small look of gratitude
in her eyes is something that I will never forget. That's why, when
the request came through for permission to lead an away team
consisting of B'Elanna and Seven, despite being suspicious about the
timing of the request, I argued in favor of it. I was pleased when
Kathryn agreed with my reasoning. Even I'm not cruel enough to hold
someone against his or her will.

Anyway, I stood up and walked to the ready room door. Pressing the
small door chime to announce my presence, I entered before she had the
option of hiding whatever she was currently experiencing. When I saw
her, I knew that she was going through a tough time. The first thing I
saw was a bleak and devastated expression on her face when her empty
eyes rose to meet mine. I could see the tears tracks down both of her
cheeks, as she lay curled up on her couch. She looked just like a
small child who had lost her parents. My heart wrenched in pain before
I steeled myself to do what I had to do.

"Kathryn?" I spoke gently, not wanting any sudden sound to spook her
back into her emotionless shell. This was a matter where I couldn't
afford for it to boil down to a relationship between Captain and crew.
I came to a stop just outside of her arms reach in order to study her
eyes. That's one of the things that I love most about her, her
blue-gray eyes. Right now, moisture was pooling along the surface of
them, every once in awhile overflowing her lashes to streak down her
face. Thos wonderful eyes searched my face for something, but I don't
know what it could have been. Was she looking for sympathy?
Compassion? Understanding? Maybe it was someone experiencing the same
things she was. I don't know. She had to have known that I would do
anything in my power to make her feel better. I really hate these
simple moments between us where I'm supposed to know what she's going
through without any words being exchanged between us. I don't know if
it's just a matter of too much distance between us, or if it's just
the natural difference between men and women that mankind has been
dealing with for thousands of years. Whatever she was looking for, she
didn't find it. I watched as her body collapsed into a small ball,
laid down on the couch, and start shaking as sobs wracked her tiny
frame. Without a word, I sat down beside her, lifted her up, and
gathered her into my arms. There really wasn't anything I could do
other than stroke her back gently and whisper those empty words of
comfort until she calmed down. That didn't happen for at least fifteen
minutes.

When she finally calmed down enough to speak, her body was still
trembling. I don't know if it was because she was afraid or what, but
no matter how tightly I held her, she continued. I just held her head
pressed to my chest and waited patiently. I could just see her tiny
hands, clenched into loose fists, just under her chin. She was so
child-like in that instance that I had to wonder how much longer she
could bear up under the pressure of being in command of a starship
without any sign of relief for another thirty years.

"Kathryn? Are you ready to talk to me now?" I whispered into her hair.
When I first met her, she wore that lovely hair in a bun that made her
look adorable. Then she decided to have it cut so it now hangs just a
little past shoulder length. It was one of my earliest fantasies to
see that auburn hair spread about her head like a halo. It was
something that I now know will never happen.

"She's gone." The tiny redhead in my arms whispered without lifting
her head. Her sobs were gone, but I could just make out the tears
still coursing down her cheeks only to soak into my uniform tunic. I
didn't say anything right away because I honestly couldn't think of
any words that could possibly make this better for her. Only time
could heal this wound in her soul, a great amount of time. My mind was
spinning furiously to come up with anything, but it remained blank.
Meanwhile, I continued to stroke her hair and back with my hands,
trying desperately to impart the feeling of safety in my arms so that
she would continue to confide in me.

In my own mind, my conscious was punishing me. I still love this woman
in my arms, but she doesn't love me in return. And how do I show this
love to her? By allowing this to happen, knowing in advance how
painful it would be to her. I closed my eyes so that if she happens to
look up she wouldn't see the pangs of guilt I was experiencing. It
sort of reminds me of something my grandfather once told me: a guilty
man fears that everyone else can see the guilt openly.

"She's gone, and it's all my fault." She whispered hoarsely,
interrupting my musing, before breaking out in sobs, her hands loosely
clutching my tunic in her small fists. Once again, all I could do was
stroke her body and whisper encouragements. It wouldn't do any good to
argue the point with her at this point in time. I had to wait for her
to calm down before that could possibly happen.

After several minutes, she started to calm down again. She tilted her
head back slightly to examine my face for a moment before she began to
speak again. "I should have refused to allow her on that shuttle. If I
did, she'd still be alive." She whispered darkly. Oh, God. She thought
Seven was dead. The shock on my face must have been apparent because
she turned her face downwards and started crying hard again. I really
didn't know what to do. I knew that Seven was trying to escape, and I
also knew that there wasn't any debris fields in the current system. I
thought that she would have figured out that the young woman had
simply ran off, not been killed. How could she have arrived at that
conclusion?

B'Elanna. I narrowed my eyes in thought as I continued to comfort her.
The Klingon must have come up with a cover story to cover the young
woman's escape. It was the only explanation that fit all the facts. I
glanced down at her for a second, trying to make up my mind. I could
simply tell her about the absence of a debris field, and that would
take most of her pain away. However, it would come back at a latter
time when she had to face the fact that the drone wasn't coming back.
Knowing that there wasn't a hope in hell of catching her after a seven
day lead, I decided to let Kathryn work her grief out now rather than
extend a small amount of hope only to see it snatched away at a latter
time. It would be the kindest thing in the long run. I also promised
myself that when the time came where she had finally stopped grieving,
that I would tell her the truth. It's just not in me to hold in this
type of secret. No, I would confess to my sins and face the punishment
that is rightfully mine.

To make a long story short, I spent the next several hours comforting
and calming the tiny redhead. Despite my best efforts, she still
harbored a feeling of guilt and responsibility over the matter, but at
least I was able to send her to bed and felt that she stood a
reasonable chance of getting some sleep. It was with a heavy heart
that I finally found my way back to my own quarters. I was surprised
to see B'Elanna sitting on my couch in the dark.

"Computer, lights, fifty percent illumination." I ordered softly,
startling the brunette who had missed my entrance.

"Chakotay." She nodded in my direction without meeting my eyes. I
noticed a glass half full of an amber liquid and idly wondered what it
was before I saw the almost empty bottle of whiskey on my coffee
table.

"B'Elanna." I nodded back, taking a seat in the chair across the table
from her.

She raised her brown eyes to stare into mine, her blank face not
changing. "Do you know?" She asked quietly, raising the glass to her
lips and knocking the whiskey back. I nodded in reply. She snorted
before reaching for the bottle to refill her glass.

"Don't you think that you've had enough?" I asked quietly, starting to
worry about how this was affecting my old friend.

"Enough? I don't think that amount exists." She chuckled. I could tell
that it was forced, though. Apparently, she was in just as much pain
as Kathryn.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" I pushed gently. I knew the
reasoning behind my actions, but was curious as to her own motives.

"What's to tell?" She replied snidely. "I emotionally abused a child."
She drained the entire glass and slammed it down on the table before
her. "I'm just as bad as those damned Cardassians, Chakotay! I
insulted her over and over again. I never let up, not once!" She
sputtered, waving her arms around. I looked into her brown eyes to see
the guilt that was pouring out. Those soft orbs of hers were dancing
around the room, avoiding my gaze. I suppose that she didn't want to
see the contempt that she expected. "I yelled at her! Hell, I
constantly threatened her! And why?" She practically yelled out at me
before dropping to a whisper so quiet and soft that I could barely
hear her. "Why did I do it? I asked myself that over and over again
and I can't come up with a reason. For seven days now, I've been
asking that question, Chakotay. For one hundred and sixty-eight hours,
whenever I was awake, I tried to find the answer in my heart."

Her hands dropped to her lap where she clutched them together to form
a large fist. Her face tilted down to stare at them and I wondered
what brought this change in her about. "I searched and searched and
you know what?" She asked quietly, her voice still whispering and
starting to slur from the alcohol. "I can't come up with one real
reason. Not one single reason for my actions this past year. I
destroyed her for nothing!" She screamed at me, the pain in her voice
obvious to me. I was slightly shocked to see the moisture coming from
her eyes. There wasn't anything I could really say, so I leaned back
in my chair and closed my eyes to hide my own pain. Not one, but two
of the most important people in my life were hurting over this and
there wasn't anything that I could do about it.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw her pouring the last of the bottle
unsteadily into her glass with one hand while her other wiped her eyes
aggressively. Just then, something she said clicked in my mind and I
leaned forward to observe her actions while I asked my question. "What
did you mean when you said you destroyed her? Didn't she run off back
to the Borg?" I asked quietly.

She laughed derisively and then took another belt of whiskey. "It's
six months at least before she can contact the Borg, Chakotay. Even at
maximum warp, she'd only cut off a month, maybe a month and a half."
She told me.

"That's what she wants, isn't it? To be back with the Borg?" I asked,
genuinely confused now.

"You don't get it, do you?" She asked incredulously, staring at me
with large, wide-open eyes. The expression of disbelief on her face
was easily read.

"Get what?" I snapped back at her, starting to get a little irritated
with her.

Realization flashed across her face only to be replaced by guilt
before she finished off her glass of whiskey and stared down into the
glass. She took another moment to collect herself, while I waited
patiently for her answer. "You can't fit a regeneration alcove in the
Flyer, Chakotay." She whispered, not looking up. "If she rations her
movements to a bare minimum, she'll last for another week or so."

"But why would she. . . " I started before the epiphany swept through
my  mind. "Oh, God!" I muttered in horror. I just couldn't imagine
taking your own life like that. It was probably the equivalent to me
starving myself to death. No, she had to be wrong.

"She can work something out, right?" I asked hesitantly, my voice
shaking from the implications I was seeing internally.

She stared at me again, her face showing her disbelief again before I
saw an expression that I've never seen on her face before. Well, at
least not directed at me. Contempt shadowed her features as she stood
up, still holding the empty glass in her hand. "You idiot!" She
snarled at me. "She never had any intention of making it back to the
Borg! She wants to die while still an individual, not be
reassimilated!" She growled loudly.

"Then why go through all this effort? If she wanted to kill herself,
there's easier ways to do it!" I argued with her. She let loose a
snarl and flung the empty glass at the bulkhead behind me, where it
shattered, spraying glass fragments over a large area.

B'Elanna stared at me for another moment before walking to the door.
Just before leaving, she stopped and looked at me with this sad
expression on her face. "Even now, she's more considerate than I've
ever been before in my life. She doesn't want anyone to feel guilty
over this. She just wants the pain to end." She whispered, her stare
boring into my eyes to emphasize her point before her gaze shifted
down to the deck. "And the worst thing is. . .  the thing is. . . "
Her voice cracked with suppressed emotion. "I gave my Kahless damned
word not to say anything or do anything to prevent her wishes!" She
roared at me before spinning on her heel and marching out the door.

I was shocked and stunned by the Klingon's revelations. I had thought
that Seven was simply running back to the Borg. Taking the easy
solution to her problem. I never knew that she felt enough emotions to
contemplate suicide, much less think of everyone else's feelings
first. How could such a naïve young woman come up with such a simple
plan? And it was simple, not to mention efficient. If anyone talked,
they would assume that she had rejoined the Borg as a drone. Instead,
she was going to commit suicide away from anyone's knowledge. I could
almost admire her, if the whole idea wasn't anathema to me.

I stood up to tell the Captain, but then rethought the idea. If she
had a week's head start on us, and we took a week to reach her, she
would be dead by the time we did. Did I really want Kathryn to find
her pet drone only to discover that she was already dead? I don't have
any illusions about what that would do to my fragile, tiny redhead. It
would destroy her as sure as if I'd shot her with a phaser. To
actually see the evidence of Seven's suicide and know that it was in
fact self-inflicted would annihilate her. I don't think that Kathryn
would ever recover from that.

I think that the Captain views the drone as family and not anything
else. Faced with the knowledge that the young woman's death was
accidental was one thing. How would Kathryn deal with the fact that
Seven refused to face life anymore because of the pain she had endured
while onboard this ship? I know that I have to tell her, but I don't
want to. If I tell her then I have to admit my own part in the grand
deception, and that would effectively destroy the last of the trust
that she still holds for me. I don't think that I could stand that. I
do love her, even if we'll never be lovers. I can accept that. What I
can't accept is her hatred for me if she discovers my part in
separating her from her daughter.

Daughter.

Kathryn views her pet drone as a daughter.

Oh, my God! God damn it to hell, I'm a stupid bastard! Why didn't I
see this before? How could I have possibly missed this? What in the
hell am I going to do?

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The End?