Post "Unity"

[maquis_co]

Days had passed since the destruction of the Borg cube and Voyager was now traveling once again toward home. Without missing duty or neglecting his responsibilities, it was clear Chakotay was still processing the recent events. He'd been quieter than normal, keeping his responses to the necessary minimum. He'd also shown little of himself in the mess hall. Like the last three evenings before, the solitude of his quarters had won out over the company of others. Silently, he watched the stars race past the view port. The voices of his ancestors called to him. Uncharacteristically, he ignored them.

Comments

[directives]

She gave him the distance he required, all the time he needed. It was an experience she couldn't relate to, having one's mind overcome like that. They'd brought him into something a freethinking individual was never meant to touch or understand, carrying him along with them and taking advantage of his position. Maybe that hadn't been Riley Frazier's initial intent, but it was the end result. Even if they did save Voyager from that cube in the end.

The captain herself was a bit rattled herself. If that carcass they discovered on that planet wasn't enough of a clue that they were edging closer and closer to Borg Space, a liberated population of ex-drones and a dormant, reactivated cube certainly was. Sending away teams over there made it more than just a daunting image on the viewscreen. The Borg were a very real, very possible threat. One they would likely encounter very soon.

It didn't matter how much time she spent pouring over Picard's logs, Shelby's reports, or any of the tactical data from Wolf 359. She'd never feel ready to face them, and she rued the day she would inevitably have to ask her first officer to recall this experience in order to help them survive it.

Kathryn didn't want to, but she knew she would. Somehow, eventually, she would.

After her shift, she made her way to his quarters, opting not to disappear into her ready room for once to reread another series of entries from the surviving crew of the Saratoga for the umpteenth time. No, she needed a break from that -- and he needed a break from this.

"See anything interesting?"

She let herself in, overriding the lock on his door without any hint of a warning. Kathryn stood back a few meters from where he stood, following his gaze. There was nothing unique about the stars that streaked past the warp field, but of course, he had something of knack for seeing what she was unable to.

[maquis_co]

Her unannounced arrival didn't seem to surprise him in the least, neither did the overriding of the lock. She was always welcome, regardless of the circumstances. Whether they were pleasant or not. She was one of only two people on board who was granted that privileged.

He tracked her reflection as she entered. Then his gaze shifted downward, away from both her face and the stars. Her question gave him pause for further thought. It seemed all he'd been doing these past few days was think, evaluate, and self-criticize. Did he see anything interesting?

"Patterns," he finally replied.

[directives]

"Patterns," she repeated, strolling deeper into his quarters until she was standing just a few steps shy of him. "What kind of patterns?"

Sure, she could guess, but she highly doubted her saw the same sort of astronomical phenomena in the blurring starlight that she did. Where she saw science, he often saw something else entire. Something she never would've thought to look for.

[maquis_co]

In this case, the stars were a convenient backdrop. Just like in the conference room days earlier when they conferred privately as she came to her decision, they were a place to cast a vacant stare. "The patterns that have formed in my life."

He turned more of his body toward her and offered her a weak smile. "I'm sorry. I guess I've spent too much time in my own head the last few days."

He'd never considered himself a person out of touch with his own reality but there were aspects of himself he'd never considered in the wake of Riley and the cooperative.

[directives]

"Don't be. It's perfectly understandable." But she couldn't understand. Even if she made herself read Picard's account on having been connected to the hive mind over and over in an attempt to relate. She would never truly understand what it was like to have your thoughts harmoniously intertwined with those of others. Or what it was like to have their collective will thrust upon her. "You've been through a lot. Frankly, I'd be surprised if you weren't dedicating a little time to yourself after what happened."

Though if he hadn't, she'd be the pot calling the kettle black. All too often, she opted to dive headfirst into work instead of giving herself the time and space to breathe after a rough or even traumatic experience. It's a wonder she even suggested that spur of the moment sail on Lake George, let alone saw it through.

But it had helped. Even if work did well to distract her, slowing down for a bit -- if only for a moment -- had helped put her mind at ease after her near death encounter with that alien's matrix.

"If I suggest a trip to the holodeck to help get you out of it, will you come willingly or do I have to make it an order?"

[maquis_co]

He returned his gaze to the stars briefly. They hadn't led the way to any sort of resolution these past few evenings. Maybe a change in scenery and some company was just what he needed. Kathryn, besides being his friend, had always been an excellent sounding board. "I could be convinced," was the honest answer.

[directives]

"Alright," she said, grateful that she wouldn't have to order him out of here. While she wasn't beyond using her authority against him, it wasn't exactly ideal. "State your terms."

[maquis_co]

The phrase nearly made him smile. He could count on her to be unwavering in her directness. He gave his reply some thought before responding. "I'd prefer someplace sunny."

The landing site where he'd fought side by side with Kaplan had been dark. The room he'd slept in had been dark. His own quarters were dimly lit. The Borg cube-

"I've spent a lot of time in darkness recently."

[directives]

While that sail on Lake George had done the trick to distract her from her near death experiences, both real and not, a program that required them to be on a another ship didn't seem like the right choice. They'd both spent plenty enough time aboard ships at is, and the last thing she wanted was to remind him of the dark, green-tinted void of that Borg cube.

An sudden idea struck her.

"Tell me, Chakotay, do you know how to ride? A horse, I mean."

[maquis_co]

The question immediately brought back memories of miserable trips taken with his father, to places that were only accessible my horseback or by transporter. Since his father honored the old ways, he'd spent many hours journeying atop one beast or another to places of the past. He'd been a contrary and difficult child, always questioning the importance of his tribe's lifestyle.

"I do but I haven't ridden in a long time."

[directives]

"Neither have I," she confessed. "Can't guarantee I'll still be any good at it, but I like to think I can at least keep myself in the saddle."

Her frontier loving parents had forced her to learn. They enjoyed ridding as much as they did camping. Sometimes, the two activities went hand-in-hand. And of course, Kathryn had hated every moment of it, wanting nothing more than to be back indoors with her books and a working replicator.

"There's an equestrian program in the ship's database I came across a while back."

[maquis_co]

Her confession brought a smile to his face. How many times had she understated her own abilities? A particular pool table came to mind. She could probably race horses.

"Green grass? Open pastures? Trees swaying the in the wind? Clear blue sky?"

[directives]

It was hard to tell at times whether she was simply overestimating herself, or if she was being deliberately coy in order to put her talents on surprise display at a later date. In this instance, however, it's definitely more of the former. The last time she sat in a saddle, there were no pips to speak of pinned to her collar. Not a one.

"As clear as can be," she assured with a smile. "Is that a yes?"

[maquis_co]

He could picture the scene in his mind, feel the warm breeze on his face, see the bluebon-

His brain came to a skidding halt at the image that didn't belong to him. For a second, the expression on his face faltered. Then as quickly as it came he forced it aside.

"How can I say no?"

[directives]

However brief, it didn't escape her notice.

"What?" She implored. "What is it?"

[maquis_co]

There really wasn't an easy answer and as much as he wanted to dismiss the memories, they were now a part of him. Some of them were a jumble, some from cultures he was unfamiliar with. Some were too close to home.

"When I was connected to the link, I saw images from each of them. It's odd having memories that don't belong, that I don't remember forming myself."

[directives]

Tuvok melded with her once, and it's the only thing she can even remotely liken to what he's experienced at the hands of those rogue ex-drones. She could still recall speaking with Captain Hikaru Sulu, even though she never actually did, along with a dozen other memories that weren't her own. The only times the shared recollections threw her for a loop were when she was deep in the heart of the ship's database, pouring over old logs of 23rd Century captains Tuvok once served under. She had to take a moment to remind herself that she didn't remember them, he did -- but that was likely nothing compared to what Chakotay saw.

Kathryn reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "They're not yours, and you know that. Being able to make that distinction is important."

It meant his mind wasn't corrupted by that Borg link, that he hadn't strayed off his individual path towards one that blurred the lines between himself and others. He was still one, not many.

[maquis_co]

"There's a split second, right at the beginning, where I can't tell the difference," he admitted, slightly disturbed. "I do make the distinction but it's not immediate. Hopefully that'll come with time and distance."

There were certainly benefits to the link as well. After all that's happened, he's loathe to admit them. It created a level of intimacy he'd never experience before, knowing an individual as well as they knew themselves, seeing and feeling everything. He felt Kathryn's hand on his arm and wished for a brief moment she could feel the comfort it lent him.

[directives]

On some level, one she would never admit to, Kathryn was equal parts jealous and wary of the link. It wasn't something she wanted to experience firsthand, but she envied the easy depth of the connection, of that which was shared readily between her first officer and the other members of the rogue collective. And at the same time, she feared it. Kathryn was an intensely private person who kept much to herself, locked away in various crevices of her mind with the intention of never allowing them to see the light of day. The link would eradicate that protective layer, exposing her in a way she wouldn't appreciate.

"It should," she reassured, lightly squeezing the flesh beneath her palm. Kathryn didn't understand how all of this worked, but she was confident that with time, the lingering effects of the link would wear off.

And she hoped that it would stay that way. Running into more Borg was an inevitability she had already excepted, something she knew was a possibility from the moment they began charting a course through the Delta Quadrant. The last thing Chakotay needed was for the link to reactivate itself once the Collective reared its ugly head.

[maquis_co]

"I wish there was some way to guarantee that," he commented, knowing full well there wasn't. Ever since he was a child, he'd feared losing his faculties, prizing his intelligence above all other gifts. Watching his grandfather grow worse heightened that fear.

[directives]

"As do I," she admitted with some reluctance.

Her hand fell away from his arm so she could take a step to the side, pacing a bit in front of the door.

"I went through all of it," Kathryn told him. "I even combed through archived entries from lower deck crewmen who were aboard the Enterprise when Q first flung them out into the path of that cube. None of it has given me any insight on how to help you or handle the Borg while in such close proximity to their native hunting grounds, so to speak."

Not even Captain Picard's experiences. Of course, the flagship's captain words were overshadowed by the rightful fury he felt towards the Collective for the violations he suffered at their hands. His words were invaluable, but ultimately unhelpful.