The BLTS Archive- 0200: In Astrometrics by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net) --- Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all its characters. Author's Notes: I think the only way I'll ever be able to accept C/7 is if Janeway is the first to let go. If she's happy, then I'm happy. It really all comes down to that. This story has hints of J/Mark, J/C and C/7 - consider yourself warned! This is another variation on '0200, At the Night Owl,' and '0200, In the Airponics Bay,' but it stands alone. WARNING - meaningful C and 7 alert - WARNING - meaningful C and 7 alert - WARNING - DANGER - DANGER - DANGER... --- SEVEN --- Seven adjusted the amplitude settings on her console, and the image came back into focus on the main screen in astrometrics. "Kath? Are you still there?" the man on the screen asked. Janeway glanced quickly over at her to make sure the link was stable again. Seven nodded. "I think we've got it now, Mark," she told him. "It's really wonderful to see you, even if you are a little blurry." Seven turned her attention back to her console. The link was not going to last much longer. It was unusual for the comm-link to be active at this time of day. Whoever was speaking to the Captain had clearly 'pulled a few strings,' as Ensign Kim would say, to get through. And he wasn't even Starfleet. "...heard about my divorce, I assume?" the man - Mark, she had called him - said. Although Seven's presence was required to keep the comm-link open, she usually tried to avoid consciously listening to the conversations between the crew and their loved ones. She did not wish to intrude. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn't resist the temptation of listening to this one. "Yes, Phoebe told me last week," the Captain said. "I was...sorry to hear that, Mark." "Were you?" Mark said, but the words were garbled. Seven adjusted the amplitude again. "Mark?" Janeway asked. Seven glanced over at the screen under the pretense of checking the quality of the image. The man was attractive, as she understood human standards. He was middle-aged, and had light brown hair streaked with gray. She could not tell what color his eyes were, but they seemed to pierce through the screen at Captain Janeway. Seven thought that he looked a little nervous. "Kath," Mark said, "Every time I see your picture on the news, it all comes back. I've been thinking about you, and remembering, and I just had to see you and ask you if there was any chance..." Seven knew she should not be staring, but she found herself unable to stop. She had never seen the Captain look quite this way. She was obviously surprised, and appeared uncharacteristically uncertain as well. She had covered her mouth with one hand, and seemed to be fighting back tears. "I don't know what to say, Mark," she replied, after a moment. "Is there someone else in your life?" Mark asked, his eyes suddenly wide. "I...guess I should have asked that first. This is so difficult..." "No," she said. "I...I couldn't get involved with anyone under these circumstances. But Mark, I...we're still so far away from Earth." The image on the screen shifted, and Seven was forced to turn back to her console to compensate. The link was becoming unstable again. She continued to listen, though, as she monitored the display panel. "I know," Mark said. "But Kath, you have no idea how huge the Pathfinder Project has become. I think they will find a way to get you back. And soon." The image cut out abruptly, then returned. "We don't have much time," Mark said. "This is a mess. I probably should have written instead. I don't expect you to answer me right away, Kath. Just think about it. My feelings for you never changed. If yours have, I'll understand." "It's just...I don't know," she said. "I didn't expect this." Seven could no longer get the image to stabilize. It was flickering, and the transmission was becoming laced with static. She could no longer compensate. She turned reluctantly to the Captain. "I'm losing the link," she said. Mark reached up and touched the screen, as if he were trying to reach through it to the Captain. She smiled with recognition at the gesture, but she was too far away from the screen, and when she raised her hand to return it, she only touched air. "I'll write," she said, quietly. In the last clear image before the link cut out completely, Seven was sure she saw hope in Mark's eyes. But then he was gone. She switched the screen back to the default star field, and shut down the console. She wanted to give the Captain privacy, but there was really nothing else for her to busy herself with. When she turned around, the Captain was still staring at the screen. Finally she sighed and leaned up against the railing behind her, rubbing her temple, distractedly. "I am sorry," Seven said, quietly. The Captain looked up, startled, then raised a questioning eyebrow. "That I was unable to maintain the link," Seven clarified, then added, "and also that I overheard your conversation." Janeway smiled. "That's all right, Seven," she said. "It can't be helped. I'm sorry that it makes you uncomfortable, though." She seemed tired, and a little sad, or something. Seven stepped towards her, tentatively. "He has a kind face," she said, to be polite, but also because it was true. "He appears to have many admirable qualities." "Yes, he does," The Captain said, her voice wavering in an unusual way. Seven saw that her face was distorted, and she looked back up at the viewscreen, as if she could still see him there. The Captain hastily brushed a tear away from her cheek, but not before Seven noticed that, too. "I loved him very much, Seven," she said. Seven was uncertain as to what to do. Part of her longed to hold and comfort the Captain, as the Captain had done for her when she was severed from the collective. But she was unsure such a display would be welcomed. Instead she stepped closer to the Captain - right beside her - hoping that would be an appropriate show of support. She was confused by all of the emotions she was feeling. The Doctor had, only recently, completed the series of surgeries to adjust her cortical node so that she could experience a full range of emotions, but she often had difficulty interpreting them. The Captain's situation made her feel both happy and sad at the same time. But there was something else - she felt a powerful longing to feel those emotions for herself, instead of for someone else. She wondered if she would ever truly experience love. She thought it unlikely. But she turned her attention back to the woman beside her, and tried to think of something appropriate to say. "Perhaps," she finally said, "you will love him again." Janeway smiled and shook her head. "Maybe," she said. "I can't believe I'm even considering it...but then, I can't believe how strong the feelings are, after all this time." She laughed, but in a way that Seven recognized was self-deprecating. "I'm a little confused," she admitted. It occurred to Seven that it was unlike the Captain to voice such a thing. It also occurred to her that she would probably not have said it to almost anyone else. She felt a strange flush of pride at that. The Captain had taught her many things, but the honor of being considered her friend was what mattered most to her. At that moment, the doors swished open, and Commander Chakotay entered. His eyes found the Captain immediately. "Is everything all right?" he asked, approaching them. "Tuvok said you had a message from home." He looked at the Captain with concern - her eyes were a little red. "Not bad news, I hope," he said. She smiled. "No," she said. "Not bad news." "If you will excuse me," Seven said, recalling social lesson number twelve, the graceful exit, "I have something I must do." Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay both smiled politely, and she turned and left the room. She didn't really have anything else to do, but she thought perhaps that they wanted to talk alone. --- JANEWAY --- Janeway smiled fondly at her concerned first officer, and best friend, after Seven departed. "You seem upset, Kathryn," he said. "Who were you talking to?" "It was Mark," she said, sighing. She leaned back again and folded her arms across her chest. He leaned back against the rail beside her. "He's divorced now. Did I tell you?" Chakotay blinked, surprised, and shook his head no. "About a year ago," she said, "although I just found out last week." "That's...interesting," he said, non-committally. She smiled at his measured response. He really had missed his true calling. She'd never met anyone better suited to be a counselor. She took a deep breath, then said, "He wants to know if there's still a chance for us to renew our relationship." "Ah," Chakotay said, nodding sagely. "And is there?" She snorted. "An hour ago, I would have said no. I thought I had let go of him completely. But seeing him again...hearing him talk...it all came back to me. I think, maybe, I'm considering it." He nodded, and looked down, smiling a little sadly, she thought. That surprised her, for she thought their feelings for each other had been resolved years ago. She pushed away from the railing and turned to face him. She had to be sure. She wouldn't hurt him for anything. "For years," she said, carefully, "I thought that when we finally got this ship home, you and I could have a future together. But I think, Chakotay, our time is past now." He smiled again. Sadly, again. "Lately," he said, "I've felt that way, too, although I think it took me longer to see. And I've come to believe that we'll be traveling different paths when we get home, anyway. Not that I know what my path will be, yet, but I have a feeling mine will be a quieter life than you'd be happy with." He reached out with his palm extended and she felt her eyes fill with tears. They'd been through so much together. She clasped his hand and their fingers entwined, as they had so many years ago on New Earth. "I'll always love you, though, Kathryn," he said, softly. "Know that." With her free hand, she brushed a stray tear away from her eye. "Promise me, Chakotay," she said, "promise me that we'll always be part of each other's lives. I said it once, and I meant it - I can't imagine not having you in my life." "That's a promise I can keep," he said. Then they both leaned in, and kissed each other gently. He pulled her into an embrace, and they stood together for several moments. She stepped back first. "Well," she said, "I've got some thinking to do, and a letter to write. I think I'll be heading out. Are you coming?" He smiled. "No, I'm going to stay for a few minutes. I'll see you tomorrow on the bridge. Goodnight, Kathryn." "Sleep well," she said, and turned to leave. As the doors closed behind her, she caught one last glimpse of him. He was looking at the star field, and smiling. Sadly. --- CHAKOTAY --- Chakotay stared at the viewscreen until the star field began to blur, as if the ship had gone to warp, although it hadn't. He felt...actually, he wasn't sure how he felt. Everything he'd said to Kathryn was true. In his heart, he knew it would probably never have worked out for them. Still, it was difficult to let go of something you'd been holding onto, however irrationally, for so long. He felt a little heartsick, but part of him, he knew, also felt relieved. Released. He hoped that she would be happy, someday - with Mark, or someone else. She deserved it more than anyone he'd ever known, and truly her happiness was all he'd ever wanted. The sound of the doors swishing open again pulled him from his musings. He turned to see that Seven had re-entered the room, but was standing just inside the door, awkwardly, looking at him. "I'm sorry," she said. "Would you prefer to be alone?" He smiled, touched by her sensitivity. She had come such a long way. She no longer even remotely resembled the arrogant, cold woman she'd been when she was initially disconnected from the Borg. He thought, fondly, that this was yet another of Kathryn's wonderful accomplishments, at least in part. "No," he said. "It's all right. I was just leaving." She moved to the main console and he turned to go. He was about halfway to the door when she spoke again, suddenly. "Commander?" He turned back. She looked uncertain, and maybe a little shy, of all things, although he could have been misinterpreting that. "I...I have been reading about your culture on the database," she said. "It is...interesting." He was about to ask her why, all of a sudden, she had an interest in his culture, but thought better of it. She seemed troubled, so he instinctively opted to remain silent. "I have been wondering," she continued, "do you think that I have an animal guide?" "Everyone has an animal guide, Seven," he told her. "I am not certain," she said. "The Borg took many things from me. My childhood. My individuality. Although I have regained some of what I lost, I believe I will never feel completely comfortable as a human." She paused there, but was focused inward, as though she was searching for what she wanted to say next. He waited. "If my animal guide is supposed to represent my soul," she concluded, finally, "at times, I feel that I have been severed from it." He took four steps forward until he was standing directly in front of her. "No, you haven't!" he said, with conviction. He found that he was holding her shoulder, and although she normally shied away from any kind of physical contact, she didn't pull back. He saw tears in her eyes - a response to his emotional reaction to her statement, and was surprised to find that his eyes were watering, too. He'd never seen this side of her. How could anyone believe that they were walking around without a soul? It was tragic, really. He couldn't imagine feeling that way. "You have an animal guide, Seven," he repeated, firmly. "Trust me on that. If you like, I can help you find it." "How?" she asked, with frank curiosity. "There is a way," he said. "In my quarters, I have a device called an 'akoonah,' which can help. Would you like to try?" "I believe so," she said, hesitantly. "When? Now?" He was tempted to say yes, before she had a chance to change her mind. This could be such a big step forward for her. But he knew she would need some time to prepare herself, emotionally. "How about tomorrow night, after alpha shift?" he suggested. "Meet me at my quarters at, say, 1900 hours?" He was rewarded with one of her slight smiles, beautiful because it was so rare. "It is...a date," she said. "And thank you, Commander." He nodded, said goodnight, and left the room, smiling at her choice of words. A date, indeed. He'd gone about ten steps when he stopped, suddenly, disquieted. A date? --- The End