Chapter Text
Kathryn woke to an empty bed, the space beside her unusually cold in her husband's absence.
The memory of the news they'd received the previous day suddenly hit hard. Kolopak. The incident with the Cardassians.
It also brought up some other unwelcome memories, of Daddy and Justin, but she buried them deep. She needed to focus on Chakotay right now.
Climbing from the bed, she headed for the living space, half expecting to find Chakotay starting breakfast. Much to her surprise she found the room empty. A little worry rose in her stomach, with sudden concern for his whereabouts.
“Janeway to Chakotay,” she tapped her combadge. Only the static responded.
“Janeway to Chakotay,” she tried again, growing quickly impatient. “Computer, locate Commander Chakotay.”
“Commander Chakotay is not onboard the ship,” Came the computer's automated response.
“Where is he?” she called out.
“ Commander Chakotay's current location is unknown .”
“Last known location?”
“Shuttle bay one, at 03:52.”
Damn it , she thought, immediately realising what he had done, and where he had gone.
It didn't take long for Kathryn to pull on a uniform and storm onto the bridge.
“All stop,” she called out, to the tail end of the Gamma shift.
The helm looked up, surprised, but carried out her order regardless.
Kathryn took her command post and looked up the relevant data on the central console. “Change setting to 232 mark 5. Set a course for Trebus, warp 8.”
“Belay that,” Freeman's voice startled her as he stepped out from the turbolift.
“Captain,” she stood and addressed him, “Commander Chakotay has left the ship without authorisation. We need to go after his shuttle.”
Freeman gave her a steady look. “The commander has authorisation.”
Kathryn stared at him blankly for the moment it took to understand what had happened. “You gave him permission to depart?”
“I did.”
“What the hell?”
“Commander Janeway, a moment in my ready room, please.”
Freeman passed through the bridge without a second glance, expecting his first officer to follow diligently behind him. As expected, she did just that, but the instant they were alone she laid into him.
“I can't believe you let Chakotay go without running it by me first,” she started, “All crew movements go through me.”
Freeman's expression hardened, “Don't hide behind protocol, Kathryn. Be honest, you're upset that I allowed your husband to leave without telling you first.”
“So you knew he hadn't spoken to me?” she quickly latched on.
“Yes,” Freeman looked somewhat reluctant, “But after Chakotay explained his reasoning, I had to agree with him. Your presence on Trebus right now is likely to aggravate tensions more than anything else.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you don't know when to let things go, Kathryn,” he cautioned. “Your ability to resolve conflict is second to none. But you also have an innate ability to cause it in the first place.”
“Sometimes things need to be agitated,” she argued passionately, “Sometimes someone needs to stand up and put things right.”
“Not today,” he declared, with a note of finality. “Right now we sit tight. Hold our course and complete the current mission Starfleet has assigned.”
“Let me go. I'll take another shuttle and follow after him. Please.”
Freeman took a breath, and she could tell he was intentionally putting pause before giving her his answer. When he finally spoke there was compassion in his tone. “Chakotay was very explicit that this was something he wanted to do alone, Kathryn.”
Her brow furrowed. “That doesn't make any sense. He and I agreed that we would go together.”
Seeing the anger fall away from her body Freeman's stance softened. He stepped towards his desk and twisted the computer console around. “I'll admit I would be pissed if Carol did something like this without consulting me,” he said as he tapped at the controls, “I can't explain all of Chakotay's reasons for leaving the way he did, but perhaps he can…”
Kathryn looked down at the screen, and noticed a still frame of Chakotay's face on the display. He'd left her a message. Her heart lurched with both hurt and anticipation.
Freeman turned to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze, before stepping away completely and leaving her alone in his ready room.
She took a moment. Took a breath.
“Computer, activate message,” she called out.
“Kathryn,” he started with a sad smile, the soft timbre of his voice instantly quelling any remaining anger, to expose the worry and hurt beneath. “I'm sorry I left so early this morning without waking you. We've been through so much recently, and with everything on Trebus so turbulent…” he struggled with his next breath. “I didn't want to risk bringing you into that. I'm sorry. I'll call as soon as I can. I love you.”
****
Chakotay had left in the early hours with a heavy heart. He was immeasurably grief stricken already, but hearing of his father's death left him with an empty hollow feeling. Going without Kathryn filled that hole with a terrible guilt. One which only worsened over the days it took to reach the place of his birth.
Part of him wanted desperately to bring her along. They were both still recovering from the miscarriage, she needed him as much as he needed her right now. But ultimately he knew Sloan was right. He couldn't risk bringing Kathryn into a situation which might endanger her. It was one thing to chance his own life, it was something else to risk hers.
Sometimes it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. He could only hope that Kathryn would give him a chance to explain himself when the time was right.
His mother was waiting for him at the shuttle landing site. It was rare for the planet to receive Federation visitors, especially these days, so he'd called ahead to ensure they would be expecting his arrival.
Tananka swept him into a fierce hug as he disembarked. Carried away with the emotion of seeing her only son following the tragedy of his father's death. She cried freely in the hold of his arms, but Chakotay still felt too numb to express his grief over this most recent loss.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure that could have been Dasani, lingering in the distance. But the figure was gone by the time Chakotay and his mother made their way into the town.
Later, and with her emotions in much better check, Tananka served him tea on the veranda of his childhood home.
“How's Kathryn?” she asked with a knowing tone.
“Getting there,” he replied flatly.
Tananka shot him a look. “How did she feel about you coming here alone?”
“I didn't ask her,” he admitted, reluctantly, “I just left.”
His mother sucked in a breath.
“Don't say it,” he glanced away. “I know.”
“You’re so much like your father,” she said, with a deliberately fierce tone. “After he lost his own father, he disappeared into the mountain range for days.”
“I remember,” Chakotay said quietly.
“Grief can be private, but the burden can be eased when it's shared. Why aren't you sharing this with your wife, Chakotay?”
He kept his eyes downcast, unwilling to tell her the real reason. His concerns for her safety on this planet.
Tananka clicked her tongue.
“You recently lost an unborn child too,” her tone softened, “We were devastated to hear what had happened; Kolopak especially so. He was heartbroken for you.”
Chakotay looked up, surprised at the revelation. Speaking to his father about it had helped; but he hadn't known of his father's own heartache at the news.
“Don't look surprised,” Tananka gently scolded him, “Like you, he felt things deep, but only a little made its way to the surface. What does emerge is an expression of the emotion which originally took hold. Sadness to compassion. Love to distraction.”
Tananka pointed out across the backyard, “When he heard he was going to be a grandfather, he was so overwhelmed with love that he took himself to the workshop for days. Fixing everything in the house. Building all manner of new things we didn't need.” She smiled sadly to herself. “When he learned that wasn't going to happen, his focus turned to you. To do what he could to support you. Mentally, physically… spiritually.”
Chakotay leant forward, onto his elbows, hands clasped before him.
“I hadn't realised how affected he was,” he confessed, realising he'd been too caught up on the impact on himself and Kathryn to consider the feelings of those around them.
“You weren't supposed to,” she smiled softly, “That was yours and Kathryn’s pain, but he would have done anything to ease it.”
The moment was interrupted by a light creaking of floorboards, and the clearing of a throat. They both turned to see Dasani, holding back in the doorway.
Tananka put down her teacup and went to greet her visitor.
The two women exchanged some hushed words before Tananka nodded, shooting her son a wistful look before she left.
Chakotay stood, holding his head high and shoulders back. “Dasani,” he said her name with great care.
“Your father was a good man,” she started, “Your loss is the loss of an entire community.”
“I heard there was an altercation in town?”
“He was asking a group of soldiers to leave. They had caused some… trouble the previous evening. I was dealing with it, but your father was losing patience.”
“And the man who fired the weapon?”
Dasani pursed her lips, and he instantly knew he wouldn't like the answer, so she deliberately didn't give it.
“I couldn't help but overhear some of what your mother was saying. You lost a child?”
He nodded in confirmation, but words failed him.
“I'm sorry,” she said with absolute sincerity. Then, watching him carefully, “I knew a Chakotay who was relieved not to be burdened with an obligation. Free to leave this planet and pursue his own path.”
He pursed his lips. “I knew a Dasani who was too ashamed to tell her father she’d been engaging in premarital sex.”
The woman across from him looked serious. “I suppose we've both changed a lot. You'll be a good father one day.”
Chakotay took a breath, desperate to recenter himself, unwilling to be distracted by his own situation. “I didn't just come home because of my father, Dasani. I came back because this community is in danger. The Cardassians will take what they want, one way or another.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Don't think I don't know that already, Chakotay,” she said quietly.
“Then why don't you leave; go somewhere safer?”
Her eyes shot up to meet his. They were evenly matched from birth: headstrong, resilient and restless in spirit. But their paths had split long before adolescence, Chakotay's wanderlust desperate to leave and experience all the universe had to offer. Dasani's passionate nature directing her towards politics and care for their community.
“Leaving isn't an easy option,” she said carefully.
“I never said it would be easy,” he agreed, “but necessary. Let me speak with the council, convince them to reach out to the Federation for support.”
Dasani pursed her lips. “They won’t listen to you. You’ve been apart from us for so long, Chakotay, I'm not sure you understand our ways anymore. You think with your head and not with your heart. You talk like a Federation diplomat, not one of us.”
“I’m still one of you,” he fiercely insisted.
She shook her head. “You're mourning, but you have followed none of our traditions, the rituals you were taught throughout childhood. It takes more than circumstance and birth to be part of this culture. Your entire spirit must belong.”
Chakotay held out his hands. “How can I prove that my spirit is still tied to our people?”
“Go on a spirit walk, Chakotay. Speak with our ancestors, and when you return, I’ll arrange an audience with the council for you. They will listen to what you have to say.”
It had been years since Chakotay had participated in any of their rituals. He hadn't meditated in so long, he wasn't even sure if he still knew how. But it was a simple enough commitment to make. He would go through the motions, and by the end he would talk to the council. Convince them of the need to change.
Chakotay could never have anticipated, however, how the experience would change him.
****
Five days later
Chakotay slowly returned to consciousness. Memories of the last few days washing over him in a haze.
It had hit him towards the end of the first day, when he had emerged from the sweat lodge in floods of tears. Grief stricken. Wailing at the night sky. Cutting his hair; shaving it back to the scalp with a sharp ritual blade.
On the second day he had been taken to the hillside, and deprived himself of food and sleep for days until he began to hallucinate.
He saw his animal guide. His father. Their ancestors. And finally, he felt the spirit of the planet. She was fearless and calm, powerful and humble. He felt the same pull towards her that his ancestors had several generations before. A connection which had been missing from his entire childhood. But he felt it now. Knew it through to his bones.
And now he finally understood.
They couldn't leave without losing part of themselves.
-
There was a small group of villagers waiting for him as he emerged from the woodland. They gathered him up, gave him water and nourished his body with its first food in days.
Whilst he sat and recovered, he called for their local tattoo artist, who marked the experience permanently on his skin. The same markings his father had worn. In honour and in remembrance.
Dasani appeared beside him. “I think you’re ready,” she told him.
Chakotay nodded. He was ready.
-
As promised he was granted an audience with the council. But the man who stood before them wasn't the same man who had left the planet two decades ago, or even the officer who had arrived a week before.
The spirit walk had shifted something deep within him. Something he couldn't articulate with words.
His argument and urgency for them to leave the planet was diminished. Instead he found himself listening. To their reasons for staying. Their wisdom and passion for the choices they were making as a community.
There was no simple solution. But they were determined to stay, to face the challenge of the Cardassians, and the potential consequences.
As he prepared to leave he was defeated from his original intentions, but not disheartened. He had a new purpose now.
Beside the shuttle he said a farewell to a small group of family and friends who had gathered to see him off.
“Are you sure you won't come back with me to Earth?” he quietly asked his mother, already knowing her answer.
Tananka took his hand in hers. “I'm always with you, Chakotay,” she said softly, “but I belong here.”
Squeezing her hand he looked deeply and affectionately in her eyes. “Take care of yourself.”
She simply smiled.
Chakotay took his mother in a firm hug. When he finally released her, he turned to the others, sharing more hugs and handshakes, until he reached Dasani who was hanging back a little from the crowd. He met her gaze and held it. “Take care of them.”
“Always,” she promised.
He nodded. There was a new understanding between them. One of acceptance and respect. A divergence of path, but not of intention; they would each do what was necessary to protect their people and this way of life.
It was with an uneasy feeling that Chakotay left, but also with an understanding that he hadn't had before. This was their land; their home. They couldn't leave.
Chakotay was apprehensive about the conversation he would need to have with Kathryn when the Gage re-entered subspace. However, there was another call he needed to make first, one which knotted his stomach and caused his spine to tense as he waited for a response.
Finally the Starfleet insignia switched to reveal the face of Luther Sloan on the screen.
“I want to help,” Chakotay announced.
The other man nodded, knowingly. “Let's talk in person. When you get back to Earth I'll send you some coordinates.”
The uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't go away after the call had ended, but he felt a sense of momentum. If his people couldn't leave, maybe there was something else he could do to protect them.