MESSAGES

RATED PG

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters and the premise behind Star Trek.

Based on Hunters

Tension on the bridge was palpable that morning as the senior officers sat waiting for the incoming subspace signal to complete transmission, bringing the holographic Doctor back to Voyager laden with messages from the Alpha Quadrant. In only a short while they would learn the first news of their respective worlds in four years. A direct signal to the ancient subspace relay network had been attempted and had swiftly degraded. The Doctor was sent instead; his holomatrix signal would stay stable, insuring at least moderate success.

Throughout the ship, crewmen and junior officers were having difficulty performing their duties. News of family, friends, lovers, husbands, wives - these were considered a priority, far more important than news of wars, peaceful negotiations or political situations. The Doctor had been carefully instructed by Captain Janeway to save as much space as possible for personal messages and bring only the highlights of anything else back with him. After all, they were in no position to help or hinder any situation as it developed in the Alpha Quadrant, still so very far away. What the crew longed for most, now that the technology had been placed within their grasp, was news of home. The Captain was aware that morale would certainly be affected one way or another, but having no news whatever would be the worst of all.

Captain Janeway had been notified by Seven of Nine that the Doctor had reappeared. She had gone immediately to the Astrometrics Lab to hear his report, touching his arm tentatively as though to connect herself, however slightly, with home. To think that this brave being, who had become so much more than a hologram, had actually been there! Her heart swelled as she listened to his artificially modulated voice telling her of his adventure.

Afterward, she had made an announcement from her ready room to the entire ship: This is Captain Janeway. As you may or may not know, the moment we have all waited for has come at last: the chance to communicate with the Alpha Quadrant. The technology exists and is at our disposal. If you wish, you may submit a datapadd containing your letters to home. All messages will be coded for privacy. I would ask, however, that the number of your messages be kept to a minimum. There are 160 of us and we are transporting over vast distances. Please deliver the datapadds to the Astrometrics Lab as soon as possible. Janeway out.

She closed communications and picked up the picture that had remained on her desk for four years as a tender reminder of his love. Mark, kneeling, his arm around her beloved dog. The puppies! They would be grown now! Mark, her childhood -- well, she certainly couldn't call him a sweetheart. She had almost hated him; she had called him vulky to her mother's consternation, and had been reprimanded by her mother for being so rude. He had been positively awkward, shy and clumsy, far too much so to have earned her respect or liking in those days. She smiled at the memory of him then, tall, thin and lanky, a book always under his arm and a shock of unruly hair that forever fell in his face. Then came Justin, and thoughts of Mark flitted away as she fell deeply in love with the Ranger who had saved her from the Cardassians. Her heart contracted at the memory of Justin, killed along with her father in an experimental shuttle crash.

After a long, grief-stricken period, during which her sister had pulled her up by her very bootstraps, she had run into Mark again. A quiet friendship was salvaged from those years of dislike. She now realized his feelings for her, unblemished by her neglect, and surprisingly those same feelings began to grow within her. Out of that friendship a love of such intensity had blossomed that now, after four years away from him, Kathryn would retire to her room on rare occasions to stare out her window and let tears roll unheeded down her face at the thought of the distance now between them. Mark! Oh, Mark!

She replaced the picture on her desk, composed herself and stepped out onto the bridge. Nearly every officer was bent over a padd, busily inputting data. She could imagine the same scenario all over the ship. Soon their messages would be sent, and she hoped with all her soul that they would arrive. Then she actually came close to prayer with the hope that a reply would be forthcoming.

She took her seat, casting a quick glance at her First Officer, who alone of those now stationed on the bridge, was not focused on his padd. He held one, but in his lap, as if he didn't want to look at it. With kindly concern, she asked, ‘Is your letter to your cousin ready, Chakotay?’

He smiled at her. ‘My cousin - yes, in Ohio. I have a letter for him here. I've asked him to relay my message to the chief of my tribe and to the other scattered members of my family... I was just considering whether or not to contact the Maquis.’

‘You certainly don't need my permission, Commander.’

‘I know that, it just seems...unethical now...in this uniform...’

‘Chakotay, we're sending coded messages to friends and family. They were your friends. In a way, they were your family. Both you and B'Elanna, as the senior officers on board who were part of the original Maquis crew, are certainly entitled to know what has transpired within that family since your departure. That would normally go for the rest of the Maquis crew as well, but in the interest of conserving, I would prefer that the two senior officers only relay and receive those messages. Agreed?’

‘Agreed. Thank you, Captain.’

~ ~ ~

‘Messages coming through, Captain!’ Ensign Kim's words brought the bridge to sharp attention. In the Astrometics Lab the Doctor materialized, layer by layer, padds in a packet under one arm.

‘Greetings, Doctor,’ said Seven of Nine. The Captain is waiting for you in her ready room.’

Captain Janeway was determined to issue a padd to every crew member before she herself sat down to read her own. Commander Chakotay as well helped in handing out the numerous padds to crewmembers patiently waiting in line outside the mess hall. Those who had already received theirs sat at the tables. Neelix, understanding the significance of this event and therefore uncharacteristically quiet, passed out refreshments. The Captain covertly watched all of them. Some sat noticeably stunned; others' faces bore traces of tears as they swiftly read then re-read the information on the padd. Some like Ensign Wildman, who sat holding her Ktarian daughter close, cried for happiness as she read her news of home. Her husband must be overjoyed, thought Janeway, smiling.

All but two of the padds had been handed out. The last two remained on the table beside which Captain Janeway stood. Chakotay sat quietly beside her with hands folded as the Captain glanced over the room, the all-too-familiar look of motherly concern on her face. She glanced down and caught Chakotay watching her. She attempted a crooked grin but tears welling in her eyes made it difficult. He picked up her padd and held it out to her.

‘Captain.’ he said simply.

She took it from him with a small smile and left for her ready room to read it in privacy. Chakotay picked up his own padd and accessed his cousin's words: joy in that Chakotay was alive and would maybe someday return home. It had always been assumed that his Maquis ship was lost in the Badlands and he had been killed. There was news of what little family remained. Conditions on Dorvan V; good crops, a new chief. The next letter from a sister. Her heart sang with joy. Chakotay was alive and she had recently given him a new nephew. Choked with the strong emotion that floated beneath his stoic exterior, Chakotay rose suddenly and left the mess hall before he could read further.

He came to a swift halt. Ahead, in the corridor, B'Elanna Torres stood alone, her face in her hands, sobbing. B'Elanna? Crying?! He approached her and touched her shoulder.

‘B'Elanna, what's wrong?’

‘Didn't you get word in your message, Chakotay?’

‘I haven't read everything yet. What word?’

‘About the Maquis...’ she fought for composure. ‘They're...gone, they've been defeated!!! The damned Cardassians...’

He could only stare at her.

‘Read it!!’ she thrust her padd at him and he as roughly took it. He read silently for a few minutes, then quietly issued an order.

‘Don't mention this to the Captain - although she may already know. Round everybody up - don't send over the conn. I want to see all the Maquis crewmembers in one hour in Cargo Bay Two.’

Chakotay thrust the padd back at her and stalked off. B'Elanna hurried back into the mess hall, where most of the crew had congregated, to quietly spread the word.

~ ~ ~

Chakotay held up his hands for quiet. He stood looking out over the small group of his remaining Maquis crew, who could read in their former Commander's face that clearly something was wrong. Chakotay began to speak.

‘It's a good day today in that most of us have at last received word from home. I hope they have been good words and have brought happiness to you.’ He paused for a long moment. ‘It may also be a day of grief for some of you. For all of us - for the Maquis now serving aboard this ship - it is a day of grief...we have received word from the Alpha Quadrant that the Maquis Movement has ceased to exist.’

A startled murmur rippled over the small crowd. Chakotay again held up his hand for silence. ‘I quote here the words of Ro Laren, who had replaced Macias as our leader shortly before we left on our last mission:

'We had made great strides in winning the war. We were wiping out whole planets of Cardassians with new, biogenic weapons. Then the Cardassian government formed an alliance with the Dominion, and all was lost. Some of us were killed; some of us escaped and are now looking for places to settle as far away from the Cardassian dogs as possible. It is my hope that those of us captured by Starfleet will be treated humanely. For those taken by the Cardassians or the Jem'Hadar, may death swiftly follow.'

‘Our comrades gave their all to continue fighting for what they believed was right - for what we all still believe to be right. What this will mean for us when our journey ends, I can't say,’ Chakotay continued. ‘All I can tell you is, the cause for which we all lived, fought, and died...is forever finished. I would ask that you keep this information to yourselves until I've spoken to Captain Janeway. But let me also say this: we will continue to serve this ship as we have done the past four years. Nothing here has changed for us. Consider that an order. B'Elanna has the details of the situation if any of you want to read them. Dismissed.’

He turned on his heel and left. B'Elanna stood grim-faced as the padd she held out was passed from person to person.

~ ~ ~

Kathryn Janeway sat frozen in her ready room chair, staring at the picture of Mark and her dog. The padd bearing her personal and professional messages lay forgotten on the table. She had half-expected the news it contained but expecting it gave no comfort nor cushioned the blow when it actually came. Mark had replied personally to her letter; she could hear his voice - the pain evident behind every word:

Kath! To know that after so long that you still live is a miracle to me, and must be a miracle to everyone who thought Voyager lost forever! No one talked about anything else for months. We all grieved; I spent most of my time away from the University at your mother's. There was a memorial service for the crew, Kath, and a monument was erected on Starfleet Academy grounds in your honor. We had to come to terms with the fact that you were dead. It was hardest on your mother, losing you only fifteen years after your dad. Then the years went by, one after the other. You weren't coming back to me. I had to heal, Kath; I couldn't carry the hurt any more. Time helps us, you know. It creates a gap between us and the lost one whether we want it to or not.

Kathryn, I had to move on. It took me nearly three years before I could rejoin humanity; to take part in life again, and it was so bleak alone. A new professor of archeology - Anna Vayo - came to the University and we began seeing each other. I don't know how to tell you except to say honestly: Kath, we were married eight months ago.

I know this news will hit you hard, especially after the message you sent to me, although you told me you knew you had to face reality. You said you would understand if something like this had indeed happened. I only hope you can. Please try. You will hold a special place in my heart forever, only now the ghost has been replaced by a warm, live, cherished memory of our time together.

I hope your journey home continues well - and if we should see the day - I will be waiting with your mother and sister to see Voyager dock. When you get within range, send a signal if you don't want me there and I will understand. Until then, Kath, I send my very best wishes. You're as strong as iron - and I know you will survive.

Mark

She arose from her desk slowly, bent as if an old woman, and walked to the window. The starfield glittered in the black night; each bright pin of light representing a white-hot star. The duller ones were dying suns; possibly planets. In between were spots of inky space where black holes were consuming everything in reach, including light. She would let one of them consume the hurt when they got within range. It was the only way she would be able to cope...

The door chime sounded. She squared her shoulders; there was no need to wipe tears away; this pain went too deep, well past the point of tears. She swept a stray lock of hair back off her face, returned to her chair and said in a steady voice, ‘Come.’

Commander Chakotay entered. ‘You wanted to see me, Captain.’

‘Yes, Commander. I'll get right to the point. I've been made aware of the Maquis situation by Starfleet Command. What I would like you to explain now is why you held a meeting with them without informing me first.’

He stood before her, hands clasped in front of him, totally unruffled by her cold, stern manner. Damn, word leaks quick...she's more stern than I've ever seen her, given the times I've been called on the carpet before, he thought. She must have gotten some bad news... He spoke aloud.

‘Captain, with all due respect, you were not their commanding officer four years ago. I wanted that information to come from me. I thought they deserved that.’

‘I see. Were you aware that Starfleet Command, the Dominion and the Cardassian Empire are attempting to round up every member of the Maquis they can find?’

I've never seen her so angry about something that should warrant only a minor reprimand, Chakotay thought to himself. ‘Yes, I'm aware of that, Captain. We were wondering what the situation would mean for us on this ship,’ he said in a tone she hadn't heard since the first day he had come on board - wary, on the defensive. ‘The Maquis will continue serving Voyager in the manner prescribed. Not only are they under orders to do this, they are willing. They are loyal, if nothing else. As far as I'm concerned, nothing has changed for us here - except the loss of an old ideal...the loss of some old friends --- Captain?’

Janeway had so abruptly risen from her chair to again stand in front of the window, turning her back to him, that Chakotay was taken off guard. He could feel vibes emanating from her; one didn't have to be an empath to sense that something was terribly wrong, and it wasn't necessarily the Maquis situation, either.

‘Captain? Is something wrong?’ he ventured. He wanted to move closer to her and perhaps place a hand on her shoulder as was his wont at times when he knew things were difficult. Now, however, her body language, her tone, everything about her warned him: stay away.

Why did I even call him in here? I'm taking a minor infraction and turning it into an inquest! It's not like me. But then...right now I don't feel very much like myself. I owe him an apology. I shouldn't have jumped down his throat like that - I should have waited until I was calmer before even mentioning it... These thoughts ran through Janeway's mind as she stood with arms folded, struggling for composure.

‘It's nothing, Commander. I'm sorry for being so short with you. I have every confidence that your crew will continue to do their duty to this ship. As will we all. We'll deal with the Maquis situation if and when we get home. That's all, Commander.’

Chakotay hesitated a long moment, but she kept her back turned. He sighed inwardly and left the ready room. In all probability, there was nothing he could do or say to help her. She was, by her position, quite alone in some ways, even though he tried his best to lighten her burdens. At least she carried into that dark place of solitude and isolation a will of iron; that in itself would carry her through this crisis, whatever it was. Perhaps she would someday confide it to him. Until that day, Chakotay was confident in her ability to withstand it, for he knew Kathryn Janeway.

The End