by Liz Griffin
Captain’s Log
Stardate 50979.2
It is with deepest regret that I enter the death of Ensign Ahni Jetal.
Her wit, her charm, her intelligence, and her resourcefulness have been a most exemplary addition to this crew. She served her ship well, and honorably.
I will also note that I have come to know this young woman quite well over the past years. Ahni Jetal was one of the bright spots on Voyager, and will be sorely missed. But I take comfort in knowing that she has continued her journey - that she will always be young, she will always be beautiful, and she will always be with us - at least in spirit.
Log Ended
Kathryn Janeway’s Personal Log
File encryption activated
I don't know why it started.
Maybe it was loneliness, depression - a need to feel connected to someone, somehow. Maybe it was a need to assuage the guilt I carried for what I had done, to heal the wound I thought I had caused. Maybe I was just horny. Maybe it was because she was Risan, and all Risans are charming, and good-looking, and incredibly perceptive about how to seduce people - in every way imaginable, and always with resounding success.
Even Starfleet Captains.
We weren’t even close until that day. I had only spoken to her in passing, really, a polite nod when I would board a shuttle, a request for confirmation of status if someone else were flying. She was a voice from the lower decks, another faceless individual who kept the ship running smoothly without drawing notice to herself. Another Support Ensign, one of the ones we were taught in Command School were "expendable." You can always find another mechanic.
She was my pilot that day. A trade negotiation, only a short hop planetside, but Tom was in Sickbay, and fancy flying wasn’t called for. Any away mission involving the Captain requires at least a gamma cert on shuttles - so that left Culhane, Chakotay, myself, and her. I knew her to see her, of course – a little taller than me, slender, short brown hair, brown eyes, great smile, yellow uniform, one pip. And with only a little effort, I came up with her name.
"Ahni Jetal."
Her face lit up when I said her name, as if she hadn’t expected me to remember. I wonder - was I so high-and-mighty that my crew would think I ignored them like that? One does not live on a ship with the same 150 people for over two years and not know their names. But she smiled that absolutely incredible smile, and made a charming remark - completely lost to me, because I was too busy wondering how anyone could look so young and ingenuous, and still be so damn sexy.
It must be a Risan thing.
I don't think I said three sentences the entire trip down. But she just flew the damn sled, and left me alone. Which was good. I was alright as long as she was silent and concentrating elsewhere, but I knew if she concentrated that charm on me directly I would be a goner. So we were silent, except for my orders and her acknowledgements, and everything was fine. Just fine.
Except that my imagination had other ideas. As I sat in the co-pilot’s seat, I could actually feel her hands undressing me, and her mouth on my neck, and the touch of her skin against mine. And god, she was good. Like all fantasies, of course, she was perfect - her skin was silk, her mouth so eager, so passionate on me... and she knew exactly how to please me, precisely what I love. She ran her hands over my breasts so lightly, she kissed my neck just the way I like it, she sat curled up naked in my lap and loved me so very sweetly while I ran my hands over her body, again and again, so happy to have someone in my arms, someone to touch like this, someone - finally - to touch me in all the ways I needed to be touched... For hours, I stared unseeing at my board, feeling her weight on my thighs, her softness filling my arms, her mouth doing the most extraordinary things on my skin and her hands stroking in delicious counterpoint, teasing me, almost but not quite reaching the places no one but me had touched in so many months... years, even...
I suppose that was too hopeless even for my daydreams.
Her warning of imminent landing brought me out of my fantasies, and I think I actually flushed. I was certainly ashamed enough to - Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Starship Voyager, daughter of an admiral and the only Federation Captain in the Delta Quadrant - I should have better control over my thoughts. Or at least my reaction. The warm moisture was flooded between my thighs - I don't recall ever having been that wet from a fantasy before. Good god - and right when I was about to go into trade negotiations...
When we landed, I excused myself to the head.
And when I hit the negotiating table, even though she was nowhere near me, I could still feel her touching me, the fantasy much more vivid than any I had ever experienced before, a significant distraction, and completely inexplicable.
As I said, I have no idea why it happened.
But I certainly remember how.
She was waiting for me when the negotiations ended, of course. The Nyrisim had sent a "gift package" to be taken to Voyager. Trinkets, really - a few bottles of wine, some local foodstuffs, bolts of cloth for clothing - the sort of thing local diplomats give to remind their guest how wonderful their planet is. She had everything in order by the time I got there, all stowed neatly away in the cargo compartment, not even in the way of the lounge area. And as I stepped into the side hatch, she placed her hand on my arm to balance me, and our eyes met.
And, as predicted, I was indeed a goner.
She pretended not to notice - but her eyes had changed, her smile became more sensual rather that simply charming. Her hand lingered at my elbow. And then, just as suddenly, the moment was gone and she looked away, walking into the cockpit and taking her seat. This time I chose - wisely, I thought - to spend the trip in the passenger compartment. I downloaded my notes from the meeting, replicated a cup of coffee, and was sitting at an access station before she even lifted off. Our rendezvous point with Voyager was two days away, and even though it might have been uncomfortable to stay silent for that long, the repercussions of anything else would be infinitely worse. At least, that’s what I told myself. I don't know why it never occurred to me that there was another person involved.
And that person was no coward, and no weakling. After four silent hours followed by a solitary dinner while I sipped soup at my station, she stood up to me. Or rather, sat down to me. Behind me. So close, I could feel her breath on the back of my neck.
I tried to ignore her.
"Captain, I just want to ask you one thing," she said softly. "Off the record, and just between us."
I remember I closed my eyes for a second and fought against the sensations, annoyed and appalled that my body would respond that way to such an innocuous statement. "Alright," I said, not looking away from my padd, grateful to any and all gods that my voice didn’t betray me.
Her hand came to my shoulder then, and I took a deep breath as my nipples tingled - as I felt the wetness surge between my thighs again.
"I just want to know," she fairly whispered, leaning forward to breathe the words into my ear. "Did you feel it, too?"
My hands shook. No, that’s not true - my whole body shook. But as her Captain, and her protector, and her extremely superior officer, I knew there was only one thing I could say to her in this situation.
"Yes." I turned to face her. "From the moment I saw you."
"Me, too," she murmured, her lips already brushing mine - and then she kissed me.
I think it was in that moment that I realized just how inadequate my fantasy life had been.
"Good" is not the word for what Ahni Jetal was. "Amazing" doesn’t even begin to cover it. I remember bits and pieces of that first kiss, disjointed images that come to me even now, sometimes. Her mouth was warm - and soft, her lips melting into me so very sweetly... And her hands came to my shoulders, holding me gently as she deepened the kiss. I moaned into her, and she answered me softly... and then entire minutes had passed, and she had somehow shifted onto my lap, and we were kissing so very deeply, her mouth impossibly tender, her hands loosening my hair and running through it again and again, as if she couldn’t get enough... I have no idea how long we kissed. And even then, I didn’t care. My reasons for not getting involved vanished like smoke under her kisses, and the only thing my mind would offer me in that line of reasoning was to remind me that there was no regulation that said we couldn’t be involved. Just the Starfleet tradition of dating in your peer group. And then whatever thoughts I had dissolved completely as her hands moved inside my uniform and pushed it off my shoulders.
Within seconds, we were both nude, Ahni kneeling between my knees with her arms about my waist and my hands in her hair pressing her head to my bosom. I remember she sighed then, deeply - a satisfied sigh, a profoundly contented sigh. As if she had finally found something she was looking for. We stayed that way for some time, she clinging to me tightly, and my hand stroking through soft brown hair, laying it back off her face, almost a maternal caress, really.
I suppose my love for her was always somewhat maternal. Even then.
And it was love. Love at first sight, almost - maybe call it love at first notice. I never believed in that concept until that day, but I believe in it wholeheartedly now. And I can be certain it wasn’t just lust. If we had done nothing more than stay that way, with her arms around me and my hands in her hair, I would have been satisfied.
Of course, that’s not where it ended.
After many long minutes of holding her, she finally looked up at me. I remember thinking that she looked so vulnerable - her shoulders so slim and delicate, her face so young... and wanting me. Needing me. And I drew her up onto my lap again, and held her close while she kissed my neck exactly the way I love my neck to be kissed. I purred. And she laughed silently, wrapping her arms about my neck and hanging from it, draped over my arm. Her face was pure joy, absolute abandon - and I couldn’t resist her. I found strength I never knew I possessed; I held her like that and leaned down to her, taking one rose-pink nipple into my mouth as she cried out softly. Her arms tightened around my neck, her body arched to me so very sweetly... God, I can remember it so clearly now. She clung to me and arched to me and whispered her pleasure to me, her voice deepening in her passion, growing hotter by the second, her hips writhing slowly on my thighs, then more forcefully, unable to control her response to me as I made love to her. I was fascinated by her, I was enthralled by the feel of her skin, the taste of her, the sweet sounds of her whispers... I didn’t notice she was falling off me until it was too late, and her arms tightened convulsively on my neck, and we both went tumbling to the deck with a cry from her throat and a groan from mine.
It was not one of my finer moments.
But when I finally did manage to sit up against the console and get my hair out of my eyes to see her, she was laughing again. And I laughed, too. Ahni had that ability with me - she always found a way to make me laugh, even when the situation was completely Not Funny. And we were still laughing when she rolled onto her hands and knees and kissed me hungrily.
Hungry. That’s the word I’ve been searching for. We were both so very hungry.
In seconds, she ended up in my lap again - it was always one of her favorite places to be. She loved to be held, and cradled, and generally coddled and taken care of. And I was always most happy to give her whatever she wanted. Especially that first day. She curled herself into my lap, there on the deck, with me leaning against a console - and she kissed me again, building the tension again, taking control of it this time and exploring me slowly. My hands roamed over her body easily - her skin was so very soft, and warm. And her mouth caressed me in ways I couldn’t have imagined, moving over my throat, play-biting at my neck, tracing my collarbones and shoulders... And then she trailed down to my breast.
I nearly knocked myself out when my head jerked backwards into the console. But it may not have been the head shot that made me see stars.
Lying in my lap, Ahni showed me exactly how I needed to be loved. Her hands came to hold my breast, her lips slid over and over it, barely touching. Eyes closed, concentrating completely on her motions, she made love to me gently, but with power and grace, caressing and stroking until she finally took the nipple into her, moaning along with me as the moist velvet heat enveloped me. I slid my arm under her shoulders and tucked her head into the curve of my elbow, opening my eyes to look down at her angelic face so content as her lips pulled at me gently, as her teeth barely grazed me, her tongue stroking, mouth sucking, harder and harder, but never too much...
She was nursing at my breast, like a child.
I realized it suddenly - and the oddest thing was, I felt absolutely no revulsion at that thought, no sense of perversion or inappropriateness. Instead, a feeling of warm contentment surrounded me, a merging of the two instincts I had felt with her. I brushed the hair from her temple softly, trailing my fingertips down over her cheek to feel the soft sounds of pleasure vibrate in her throat. Her eyes opened to me, heavy-lidded with desire and pleasure, slightly questioning. And I smiled at her.
Later, even when we had been together for months, she would go to sleep like that - tucked into my arm, either lying across my lap or on her side facing me - and with her mouth on my breast, waking in the night to suckle gently for a few seconds before falling asleep again, held close and warm in my arms.
It was a sensation we both loved.
But this first time, it was a sensation we were both discovering - and I was completely caught up in it. In the sight of her, so sweet, so beautiful, enthralled by my pleasure... She answered every sound I made, she moved one hand to trace over my lips gently, moaning softly into my breasts as I licked her fingers, then drew them into my mouth and sucked them. My free hand moved to caress her breasts, tracing slow circles, then down further, over her body, to her legs. Her thighs were already open to me, and she was already writhing slowly on my lap, begging with her motions for what I wanted more than anything to give.
I kissed her palm – a deep, open kiss – and at the same moment, I touched her wetness. And god, but she was so wet – so very ready for me, so completely aroused by my touch... Her mouth was still as I swirled in the warm wet, as my fingers glided over and over her, spreading it around, gathering it up, bathing my fingers in her and preparing her for what I knew without a doubt she wanted... I’ll never forget the sound she made when my fingers slid into her, two fingers, so very easy... And her hips arched up, her head falling back over my arm. I slipped another inside her, filling her, tight around me but not stretched – and I watched her. I watched as she arched and bucked slowly to me, I watched as she cried out, as her hand came to her mound and she touched herself, I watched as she rolled her head back and forth on my arm, murmuring and babbling how good it was, how incredibly good, how much she loved me, how much she wanted me, wanted this, wanted to come just for me... I watched as she circled delicately, barely touching herself, pleading with me to go deeper, to do it, to have her any way I wanted, only please make her come... And I watched her as she came to me, her eyes closed, her face a portrait of utter bliss as the cry came free and clear from her throat, as her velvet walls clasped me again and again, finally releasing me to hold her close, to feel her tremble against me as she buried her face in my neck and we lay there on the deck.
I remember thinking how different it was from all my expectations – realizing that I wasn’t sorry, that I was glad I’d made love with her. I’d always thought that any relationship I started at that point would be accompanied by a considerable amount of regret – at least the first time. But I had absolutely no regrets, then or ever.
And I loved her.
I remember when we got back to Voyager – after two glorious days of sleeping on the floor, on a bed of soft pillows and the finest silk, eating gourmet food, drinking fine wine – all thanks to the Nyrisim, of course. We left one another’s arms only long enough to verify course and heading, remaining scandalously naked until the very last possible minute before Voyager was in visual communications range.
That was another thing Ahni did for me. She could convince me to do things like that, to let go of all my inhibitions, throw away every idea of propriety I had and be a complete hedonist. I could be entirely debauched with her, wanton and sensuous and absolutely brazen... I could say anything to her, do anything with her, demand of her in the most indecent language, asking for things - by name - that one should blush to even think about. I could be positively wicked - and Ahni would always enjoy and encourage every second of it. I never knew how freeing that could be until I had done it.
She freed me in many ways.
It was about four months later that I realized everyone knew - when they invited me to her birthday party. Now, why would a captain be invited to a birthday for an ensign? They didn’t invite me for Vorik, or Jurot, Ryson, Baytart, Tabor, Ashmore, Wildman... Why Jetal?
Because they knew I’d want to be there. Because they knew we were lovers. Because they knew I had precious little opportunity to be with her in public, in a non-professional setting, and that we needed that. Because they knew I loved her and they wanted to tell me they approved. And they invited Tuvok because he was her friend, through me – as a matter of fact, they had become closer than I ever would have expected. I was convinced they were discussing me behind my back.
Tuvok had been one of a very few people I had told about our relationship. And he had expressed his approval, even hinting in that obtuse way of his that a younger woman would be necessary for me – no one else my age would have the stamina to keep up with me. I’m still not sure if that conversation contained sexual innuendo.
I can still remember the look of hurt disappointment on her face when I didn’t say "Happy Birthday" to her that morning after we had made love. And the look of confusion when Neelix was less than sympathetic during breakfast. And, of course, the adolescent bickering of the party preparations, all ending in Ahni telling Neelix she was going to kill him for his part in the deception.
She exacted her revenge from me in other ways, though.
After the party, after everyone was gone and we both had drunk a little too much synthehol, Ensign Jetal escorted me to my quarters. She was very helpful. Solicitous, even. And as soon as the doors closed behind us, she had me pushed up against the wall and was kissing me like there was no tomorrow.
How was I to know there wasn’t?
Her hands were everywhere at once, her mouth was so demanding – it didn't take us even one minute to get out of uniform, both of us tearing clothing off and tossing it aside carelessly. I could taste the synthehol on her tongue, the replicated champagne we had both partaken of freely – it was a titillating flavor, a slightly naughty feeling, knowing we were impaired, and we really shouldn’t be doing anything while not in our right minds – but neither of us wanted to dismiss the high, and I don't think she did. I know I didn't.
And Ahni made love to me. Right there, against the cabin bulkhead. One second she was kissing my mouth, consuming me without mercy, drawing the moans from me while her thigh rubbed slick between my legs – and then she was kneeling to me, and her mouth was on me, and her hands were holding my hips to the wall as she moaned into me and stroked me and licked me straight into insanity.
In our lovemaking was the only place she ever demanded of me. She never once called me, never asked to come to my quarters, never made a single request of me outside of bed. But in bed - or against the wall, as the case may be... Ahni Jetal was utterly without compassion. Especially that night. She had me repeatedly - against the wall, on the floor, in every conceivable position, in, on, under, or against every piece of furniture in my quarters... She tormented me, she teased me, she led me to the edge time and again – and always she pulled away at the last moment, preferring to see me shiver, to hear me beg.
And oh yes, I did beg.
No one but Ahni could do that to me. No one had ever been able to make me so helpless – so utterly, completely, joyfully helpless – and still have me come back for more. No one else had ever been able to make me beg and plead for my pleasure – but with Ahni, I did. Because I knew it would be given, and I knew how very much it pleased her to hear me say it, to hear me use those very explicit words and give voice to my darkest fantasies.
And when she finally did have mercy on me, in my bed, mere hours before my next shift, it was her name I sobbed into the night, hearing her answering murmurs as I called out for her again and again, loving only her, and needing only her touch. I wept into her shoulder in release, unable and not even attempting to return the pleasure, believing with my entire heart that there would be time for us, and that I would love her just as thoroughly. And she held me close, stroking and loving me, bringing herself to a quiet release against my thigh – so smooth and calm, I almost didn't notice it. And we slept, my darling lover holding me this time, a rarity – and whispering sweet endearments to me as I drifted into sleep.
How was I to know?
How was I to know it was the last time we would ever make love? The last time I would hold her like that, kiss her like that? The last time I would wake to her mouth on my breasts, her wetness sliding on my thigh as she sought the satisfaction only I had been able to give her? How could I have known to cherish that moment, to hold it and embrace it completely, so that I could carry her in my heart forever? How could I... Oh, god...
Log paused: Time Index 43:58.09
Log resumed: Time Index 1:17:02.6
"We are assembled here today to pay final respects to our honored dead..." I was standing on the Bridge, what else could I call her? The dear departed? The remains? The deceased? My sweet, darling lover, my confidante, my best friend, my own personal fantasy come to life? The woman who meant more to me than life, more than family, more than everything... except Voyager. The woman who understood her position secondary to this ship, in a way no one else ever had, and who accepted it gladly without reservation. Just to be with me, whatever time I could give her, whatever stolen moments I could spare.
And now she’s gone. That wonderful, extraordinary individual is gone from my life, dying a senseless death, her agony ignored so that Harry Kim could live. I know it wasn’t the Doctor’s fault - he had to make a choice, and Harry was the one he chose. I’m certain his program weighed all the options. He didn’t even call me to Sickbay - knowing that I would never have left the Bridge in the middle of an attack. It wasn’t until it was all over that I went down there, forcing Tom Paris to open the stasis tube that held her so I could look at her one last time, Ahni still beautiful despite the burns that had obliterated half of her face.
"Our honored dead."
Oh god, Ahni - I wish I could have given you more. You deserved so much more...
Log Ended
File encryption activated
