LOVE AMONG THE RUINS

My debt of gratitude to Jim Wright's Delta Blues, and The Voyager Transcripts. Spoilers from YOH (obviously), Phage, and TOS's Operation: Annihilate (re: Vulcans' double eyelids).

Day 65

Exhaustion. Dirt. Discouragement. Pain. Screaming muscles. Failing systems. Failing power. Failing.

Odors of burned out electrical relays, unwashed bodies, and underneath it all the acrid smell of blood.

Weary bodies. Weary hearts and souls. Sorrow slithered over and around everything, crushing away the joy of life like an encroaching boa-constrictor.

Janeway sat on the floor before an open panel, amidst the wreckage of what used to be her immaculate bridge. She wiped a hand across her sweaty forehead, then stared at the streak of dirt on the back of her hand. Environmentals had failed a long time ago, rendering certain parts of the ship too hot, and others bitterly cold.

Her comment about it being the week of hell had been made about two months previous. Replicators were unreliable. Weapons and warp drive, non-existent. Despite adjusting the shields to a temporal frequency, the ship was still taking damage each attack. Three crewmen were dead. Dozens were sick and injured, many seriously, including Tuvok, who was now blind.

And daily, the Krenim continued to pummel Voyager into so much scrap metal.

Irritation was the most intense emotion she could feel right now, and she stabbed dispiritedly at the broken relay before her. Eighteen days ago, Seven of Nine had discovered a Krenim warhead lodged in the side of the ship. Her disobedience to Tuvok's order to leave the Jeffries tube resulted in the searing of his optic nerves when he protected her from the detonating warhead. Even the Vulcan's double eyelids hadn't been able to save him. Yet, it was Seven's persistence that allowed them to gain the valuable piece of information regarding the specific temporal frequency of that warhead, and Janeway knew it would pay off eventually.

It was small satisfaction that beneath the unemotional exterior, Seven obviously felt some level of guilt, or at least responsibility, because she had appointed herself as Tuvok's personal guide and assistant.

"Damn Borg," Janeway muttered under her breath. At any given moment in a day, she could be thrilled with Seven's progress in humanity, and in the next, she'd find herself almost wishing Chakotay had successfully spaced the young woman along with all the other Borg who had been on Voyager at the Northwest Passage.

She tossed aside the spanner and reached for another tool, only to find a strange device placed in her palm instead.

"Happy birthday."

Janeway stared blankly at the item in her hand, a silver pocket watch, then turned tired eyes toward her first officer crouched beside her. It seemed incongruous, even inconceivable, that anyone could use that word at all. "Happy what?"

"Today is May 20th," Chakotay said softly.

"Is it?" Janeway numbly turned back to the open relay box before her. "I thought we were still in April. Guess I've lost track of the time." Exhaustion had drained her of the ability to even smile; it had been weeks since she'd had more than three hours of sleep at any one time. Nothing mattered beyond survival, beyond the next battle, the next wave of injuries and repairs.

"Maybe this will help."

It took Janeway a moment to realize he was referring to the watch. She'd forgotten it was still in her hand. She looked at it more closely, and felt a disjointed detachment from what she saw. "It's beautiful," she commented dully. On a clinical level, she could acknowledge that the watch was very attractive, yet she felt no emotional stirring at all. It was almost as though the last eight weeks had turned her into a Vulcan. Something else the Krenim had stolen from her.

Chakotay was talking so she tried to concentrate.

"Nineteenth century mechanical movement. It's a replica of the chronometer worn by Captain Cray of the British navy," Chakotay explained. "His ship was hit by a typhoon in the Pacific. Everyone back in England thought they were killed, but eight months later Cray sailed his ship into London harbor. There wasn't much left of it - a few planks, half a sail - but he got his crew home."

Slowly, slowly, as she continued to stare hypnotically at the pocket watch, Chakotay's words began to penetrate the frozen shroud around her heart. He was doing what he always did, what he'd always done, right from the beginning. Supporting her, encouraging her. Declaring his faith in her. She swallowed down the rising tide of emotion, and lifted her eyes to look at Chakotay.

It was the first time in weeks that she'd really looked at him, and the changes that now registered with her were a shock. He'd always been so careful of his appearance, so strong, yet the man who kneeled beside her was thin, unkempt with a stubble of beard on his face, and undeniably grimy. Dirt smudged his handsome face, his neck, and uniform. The shoulder seam on his jacket was ripped. His normally golden complexion was sallow, dark circles shadowed his eyes, and deep lines of weariness were etched in his face.

Although her mirror had broken a long time ago, the ever-increasing looseness of her tattered uniform told her she didn't look much better.

Again, emotions threatened her control, and she had to look away from him. It was a mistake, because what she saw was the cluttered mess that was their bridge, and their raggedy crew - stooped, dirty, and disheveled - mechanically going about their duties. In days past they would have bantered happily as they worked, but now, black silence reigned. They might as well have been Borg for all the life they exhibited. It was too much to bear.

"Oh gods, Chakotay," she gasped against the slashing pain. "Look what they've done to us all! Look what they've done to my beautiful Voyager!" Then she slumped forward, her forehead landing with a soft thud against his chest.

His arms encircled her shoulders, and she felt him angle his body, protecting her from the crew's view. He bent over her head, and she wondered if in fact he was protecting the crew from seeing their commanding officer collapse in heap of desolation. Her shoulders shook, wracked with the effort of staying silent. She would not cry out loud, would not howl with rage and despair. She'd almost succeeded reining in the galloping emotions when she felt it against her temple.

It was the trickle of Chakotay's tears. Something snapped in her, and she gripped his jacket front in one tight fist, the watch still clutched in her other hand. The sting of hot tears finally escaped the corners of her scrunched eyes.

They grieved together for a few stolen moments as the swirl of activity continued around them as though they were invisible.

She moved her head slightly and pressed dry lips against his throat. His pulse jumped, then she felt an answering light touch against her temple.

After a few moments, Chakotay murmured, "Kathryn?"

"Mm-hmm?" A strange lassitude flooded her, and she would have been content to stay in his arms, even right there on the bridge.

"Could you move a little please? The watch is digging into my ribs."

Sitting up straighter, she could see Chakotay's eyes twinkling with amusement, and something tickled at her insides. It had been so long that it took a moment to recognize the odd sensation as laughter.

Only Chakotay would actually be able to make her laugh like this. She shook her head at him. "Right from the beginning, we've had an unusual relationship. As I recall, you beamed onto my bridge with your phaser pointed straight at me."

The look on his face was downright saucy. "I've often had my phaser pointed at you, Kathryn."

It took her a moment, then her jaw dropped. "Chakotay! You are so bad!"

"You're only discovering that now?" He grinned at her, and she lifted a hand to wipe at a smudge of dirt on his cheek. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against her hand.

How would she ever survive without him? Soberness bled away the humor and her eyes drifted around the wreckage. Her bridge, so very different from that day three and half years ago.

His hand on her chin drew her gaze back to him. "Have dinner with me," he said.

"Dinner?" Despite herself, her mouth began to crook in a grin. "With emergency ration packs?"

Chakotay shrugged his shoulders. "It's the least I can do, considering it's your birthday. I promise I'll come up with something better than ration pack number five."

Ration pack number five? As far as she recalled, that was a breakfast of eggs and tomatoes. Her forehead scrunched for a moment, then for the second time, her jaw dropped in amazement.

They were standing in the corridor outside her private dining room, discussing B'Elanna's latest idea for modifying the auxiliary impulse reactor to create a crude dilithium refinery.

"Are you sure you won't join me for breakfast? I was thinking of having eggs Benedict with asparagus, strawberries and cream." She raised one hand at his questioning expression. "I said I was thinking about it. I'm actually having ration pack number five, stewed tomatoes with dehydrated eggs."

"Mmm, sounds delicious," Chakotay responded, "but I've already had my vacuum packed oatmeal this morning."

They exchanged smiles, then she walked through the doors to find that Neelix had turned her private dining room into a galley.

It had happened a lifetime ago when anything still seemed possible and the adventure was new and fresh. That he would remember such a small exchange almost overwhelmed her, and she had to look down.

The watch still lay in her hand.

She hated what she knew she had to do.

Taking one of his hands in hers, she placed the watch in his palm, then sealed her hand over it. So hard to hurt him, when all he ever did was try to make things easier for her. She took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes.

"Chakotay, as much as I appreciate the sentiment - and I do, more than I can say - I can't keep this. We just can't afford the energy on non-essentials. I'm sorry."

He shook his head at her and tried to extricate his hand. "I replicated this months ago. I've been saving it. I wanted you to have it."

Astonishing, impossible, wonderful man. He'd actually planned months ago for her birthday. That realization made it all the more difficult, and she had to press her lips together to steel her resolve. She brought her other hand underneath to cup his hand with the watch. She spoke gently to soften the blow. "That watch represents a meal, a hypospray, or a pair of boots. It could mean the difference between life and death one day. I want you to recycle it."

As she'd expected, he was having to work to hide his hurt, so she continued. "But, keep the specs on hand. Because if we make it through this-"

"When we make it through this," he interrupted.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded. "Okay. When we make it through this, you can replicate it for me again." She released his hand and sat back.

He stared into her eyes for a moment before tucking the watch into his pocket. "If you could have anything for your birthday, what would you want?"

Recognizing that he was changing the topic, she allowed it. "Besides out of this mess? Probably a bath."

He chuckled. "You and your baths. Too bad we didn't beam up that tub I made for you on New Earth."

It was the first reference either of them had made to New Earth, and the difference between that lush, beautiful planet, and their current state was so stark that she had to force herself to respond. "Even if we had, we can't afford that much water to fill it."

"At least I can still give you dinner. So, 1900? As long as nobody else attacks us, that is."

Who could help but smile at someone like this? How empty would her life be without him? She tried to speak, but could only whisper. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Smiling, he moved to stand, but she grabbed his wrist.

"Actually, Chakotay, I could use an extra pair of hands here. If you can spare the time." She winced at her tentative voice.

He seemed to mull for a second. "Well, my calendar seems to be free, so sure, I can give you a hand."

Settling himself back beside her, the two of them worked silently together as the busyness of the bridge continued unabated around them. Occasionally one of them would cast a sideways glance, and after a while, inevitably their eyes met. Breathless anticipation blossomed into understanding, then reality intruded once more when Carey arrived to deliver the latest report from Engineering to the captain.

Day 257

Five days was all they'd had.

Five days of joy mixed with their grief. Five days of paradise in the midst of hell.

Just five days.

Chakotay had cleared a circle in the middle of his quarters, and in that oasis, he and Kathryn shared their emergency ration packs. A single wrist beacon placed on a pile of rubble at the edge of the circle provided their only light. Then, he produced one of the most precious gifts Kathryn had ever received. Two bowls of water, a sponge, and a towel. They undressed each other, bathed and dried each other, then they loved each other. Totally and completely. Tenderly and ferociously, with words and actions. Reserve had no place in this oasis. Nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect, as his body on hers, in hers. Nothing. They moved together as one, hands, lips, and tongues giving and receiving pleasure again and again. And then again.

It was so startlingly unexpected. Chakotay had walked across the bridge toward Tom at the con, and both of them vanished right before her horrified eyes. She'd nearly screamed with impotent rage at having to leave them behind, but the choice had been die then and there by the Krenim's obliteration weapon, or leave and live to fight another day. All along, she'd known they were alive, but Annorax's cold words that he'd taken them for 'analysis' had chilled her to the core, and given her many sleepless nights.

Just three days later, she'd been forced to do what Chakotay had suggested long before, what she'd sworn she would never do: break up Voyager's family and order all but the senior staff to the escape pods. It was the hardest thing she ever did. In the following months of struggle, she comforted herself with the image of them all safely winding their way toward the Alpha Quadrant. Samantha and Naomi, Tabor, Joe, Allens, Mortimer, Geron, Debra, and on and on. Their faces were always before her. She refused to think of them destroyed, or worse - captured by some vicious alien.

Kathryn wrenched her thoughts back and opened her tired eyes to the painful sight of the scrap heap that was her bridge. Wires trailed and draped like swooping bats, while exploded consoles were warped into dark looming gargoyles. Only a few of the emergency lights still functioned, rendering most of the area black and shadowy.

She's been completely alone for the last thirty-one days, and at times had actually enjoyed herself, walking the few hallways still accessible, talking to her ship. Her senior staff had transported off to the Nihydron and Mawasi ships that had formed an alliance to bring an end to the Krenim madness.

Like reaching for a talisman, she automatically felt for the comforting weight of the watch that had hung at her side for the last fifty days. Although she'd ordered Chakotay to recycle it, once she and Neelix had found it in his quarters, she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it, even though Voyager was in worse shape than ever. For once, she'd been selfish, and kept the solid piece as something to hold onto, something to ground herself. It connected her to Chakotay, to hope, whenever she touched it.

That had almost been a beautiful day, the day she'd found that watch, because a few hours later, a message had come through from Tom, giving their co-ordinates on the Krenim time ship. It also included a personal message from Chakotay for her.

"Give Kathryn my best."

Four little words that told her so much. The message was sent to Kathryn, not the captain. To the woman, his lover, not his commanding officer. And it told her that he was well and safe, that he actually had a 'best' to be sending her.

Brushing a hand over her cheek, she wondered what he would think of her now, filthy and scarred from the fire in deflector control that had threatened the ship. It no longer mattered, because it was all going to end today. One way or another.

It would end today because they'd finally reached the Krenim weapon ship. Three Nihydron warships, two Mawasi cruisers, and Voyager - six tiny pebbles against Goliath. Hopefully Tom would do his part, and one of the ships would survive long enough to take out the temporal core. It was her belief that if the weapon ship were destroyed, all of time would be properly reset. If not…

Janeway ruthlessly shoved the possibility aside.

After some final instructions to the fleet, the battle commenced and they engaged the Krenim one last time. Two of the Nihydron vessels were lost quickly, and B'Elanna had been on one of them. The sorrow that struck Janeway was mitigated by Tuvok's announcement that Chakotay and Tom had been beamed to the Mawasi. At least she wouldn't be blowing up the ship they were actually on.

"Chakotay," she whispered. It was hard, but she couldn't allow herself to think about him now. He knew her so well, and would know what she was planning to do. Nor could she afford to think about Tom learning of B'E's loss.

Then another vessel was hit by the time ship, sending it careening into Voyager. Explosions and the horrible wrenching of a dying ship roared all around her. When Janeway finally managed to crawl into her chair, a shocking sight met her eyes. The forward bulkhead was gone and only a pulsing forcefield separated her from the vacuum of space.

But Voyager was right on target for the temporal core of the Krenim ship. It almost amused her to think that this incredible journey had begun so long ago when Chakotay sacrificed his ship for Voyager. Now, it was Voyager's turn, and hopefully, all of time would benefit.

The Krenim ship loomed closer and closer. Unlike that day back at the Caretaker's array, there would be no last-second beam out for her. Anger fueled her determination as she thought of all that Annorax's obsession had cost her: her crew, her ship, and her love.

The side of the Kremin ship was so close, she could see objects through the windows. This had gone on long enough. More than long enough.

She gripped the armrests on her chair. "Time's up," she growled, then everything exploded around her.

Day 1

Captain's log, Stardate 51252.3. The past couple of weeks have been uneventful but we've made excellent progress on the new Astrometrics lab.

Lighthearted happiness reigned on Voyager's bridge as Harry and Seven successfully brought the new Astrometrics lab on line. Harry looked almost ready to burst with joy as he set about plotting a new course to the Alpha Quadrant that could shave years off their journey. Tuvok announced an approaching vessel, and shortly afterwards they received a hail. It was a new species, the Krenim. After introductions, the Krenim commandant had some advice for them.

"This region is in dispute," he informed them. "I would suggest you avoid our territory."

Captain Janeway smiled. She was always happy to avoid conflicts wherever possible. "Thanks for the warning."

The Krenim nodded politely. "Good journey," he wished them, then signed off.

Janeway leaned across the console toward her first officer. "Well, that was a brief first contact, but a peaceful one."

"And that makes it a successful one, as far as I'm concerned," Chakotay replied. "Tom, plot a course around Krenim space. So what do you think? How about a ground-breaking ceremony for our new lab? Say, 2000 hours?"

That suggestion pleased everyone, and Janeway whispered to him conspiratorially. "I think I'll replicate a bottle of Saint Emillion for the occasion. A 2370 - I hear that was a good year."

Chakotay appeared to be considering something before he finally said, "Captain, why don't you stop by my quarters before we go to the ceremony? I've found a true story in the database about a nineteenth century British mariner that I think you'll find interesting."

The End

Author's Note: It always bothered me that Kes's warning about the Krenim in Before and After was completely ignored in this episode. But in Jim Wright's review of YOH, a reader suggested to him that the Krenim time ship had been active for two hundred years, so it is quite likely that everything Voyager knew about the Kremin was erased as well, since they did not have temporal shielding until after both their shields and their deflector were aligned with the correct temporal frequency.

There is now a sequel to this story. Read Until the End of Time

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© Brianna Thomas, June 2005 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.