Story Notes: Based on spoilers for "Natural Law."
BLUE SKIES
It was so damn hot.
The sun was blazing overhead, beating down relentlessly. It was still relatively early in the day, and already the heat had reached stupefying levels. I'd long since removed my shirt, along with the rest of my uniform which was rapidly becoming drenched in sweat. Perversely, the nights on this planet were as cold as the days were hot and I didn't want to spend another night shivering in my wet clothing.
Two days had passed since Seven and I were stranded on this unnamed planet, which seemed to be made up of equal parts dust and glare. We were part of an away team scouting the area for useful materials. Preliminary scans aboard the ship indicated the presence of gallicite, and perhaps some dilithium deposits as well. Our group of six had split into pairs, each going off in a different direction. Seven was the closest to me when the attack began.
Over the crackle of static, I could barely make out the captain's voice. "Chakotay, three unidentified ships just dropped out of warp and began firing. Prepare your team for immediate beam-out."
"Understood." I didn't know if she heard me or not. I slapped my comm badge. "Dalby! Vorik! Come in, please. Celes! Taylor! Can you hear me?"
Finally someone responded. "This is Celes, Commander. Taylor has been hit by some kind of energy weapon--I can't tell where they're coming from!"
"How badly is she injured?" Not waiting for an answer I went on, "Voyager is also under attack. We're beaming up now."
Another voice cut in. "Janeway to Chakotay."
"Here, Captain."
"We're going to lower our shields in another minute. Stand by."
In the background I heard Tuvok say, "Direct hit to our right nacelle. Damage to decks 8, 12 and 13."
Kim's voice, then. "Captain, I've located the landing party. They're spread out over too wide an area--we won't be able to get them all at once."
Tuvok: "The risk of having the shields down for too long--"
Janeway: "Just do it--get as many as you can."
When the momentary sparkle of the transporter effect didn't come, I knew our fate was sealed. The static over the comm line was growing worse. Faintly, I heard, "…one more like that and we'll lose the ability to go to warp…away team…still two on the planet surface…"
"Get out of here while you still can, Captain!" I yelled, praying that she could still hear me, and that she would listen. "Don't worry about us--get the ship away!"
There was a loud buzzing. I thought I could make out, "…come back for you…" And then there was silence.
I turned to see Seven regarding me coolly. There was stillness all around; apparently the attackers, whoever they were, were satisfied that they had driven away the ship and couldn't be bothered with firing in our vicinity. Or else they were engaged in pursuit of our wounded vessel.
I glanced up at the clear blue skies, at the molten orb slowly sinking toward the horizon. I could feel the sweat beginning to pool under my arms, and in the small of my back. Seven was still waiting. "Your orders, Commander?"
"Our first order of business is to find some type of shelter before nightfall." I took a deep breath. "I don't know how long we're going to be here. But we need to get out of the elements, and away from any unfriendly eyes."
We found a small cave in the foothills, approximately nine kilometers from our previous position. We also found evidence that other members of the away team had been there--a discarded wrapper from a Starfleet ration bar. Made of biodegradable materials, it would break down over a period of time, eventually leaving no trace behind. But for some reason the casual littering--and the carelessness it implied--annoyed me.
The wrapper also brought up the question of food. Between the two of us, Seven and I probably had enough supplies to last us a week--longer, if we rationed the rations, so to speak. We were fortunate to find water, a more immediate concern, in the form of a small trickle emerging from a cleft in the rock at the back of the cave. Our tricorders revealed no harmful elements and gratefully, I dipped some up in my hands and drank. Seven did the same, after first waiting for me to have my fill and move away.
I could detect a certain awkwardness in her manner. The two of us had never been particularly friendly, let alone close, during her entire tenure aboard Voyager. Aside from ship's business, I didn't remember exchanging more than a few words with her. She seemed to spend whatever leisure time she had either holed up in the cargo bay, or with the Doctor. She participated in an occasional holodeck activity with the captain, but even that was becoming rare. As for myself, I had other pursuits.
That had been the situation up until a month ago, when it became public knowledge how Seven had been spending her holodeck time when she was alone. I couldn't quite define my reaction when I heard that she had been using a holographic representation of me to explore romantic situations. I was outraged and annoyed at the invasion of my privacy, of course, but I couldn't deny I felt strangely flattered as well. There were plenty of men onboard--and some women, too--who would not have been averse to getting to know the former drone more intimately, but I was not one of them. Even if I wasn't otherwise occupied, even if my aversion to all things Borg had lessened with time, there was something about Seven I found at once off-putting, and cold. There was more than a certain amount of hardness about her, and I had no interest in searching for the pool of softness that may or may not have existed underneath. Seven had never indicated by word or look that she was interested in me, either. But perhaps she was following the example of her mentor and role model, as in so many other things.
After Seven's little fantasy was revealed, she never apologized to me. Not really. Oh, she said the words, but there was no hint of feeling behind them. No regret. I knew that Paris had been given the job of reading her the riot act, of familiarizing her with the Starfleet regulations explicitly forbidding the creation or use of holograms of personnel without their express consent. An interesting choice. I could understand why the Captain was reluctant to perform the task herself; she undoubtedly did not want Seven questioning her too closely on her own personal use of the holodeck, let alone discussing the choice of partner. Tuvok would have approached it in the same cold, bloodless way he'd address stealing food from the Mess Hall lockers. Tom, though, was undoubtedly our resident expert on the holodecks and their uses, both public and private. Perhaps he gave her some useful programming tips as well.
We settled in for our first night in the cave, each of us in a separate corner, shielded from the wind which had sprung up. I managed to light a fire, using my phaser as an igniter, and carefully banked it to last the night. I set my tricorder to scan for life signs outside the cave; it would notify us immediately if anyone or anything approached within one hundred meters. As I tried to find a comfortable position on the rocky floor, I imagined I could hear Seven shivering. I briefly wondered how long she would be able to go without regenerating--did she even sleep?--but then overcome by the tensions and exertions of the day, I quickly fell asleep.
At first I felt slightly awkward wearing only my Starfleet-issue shorts, but I knew I'd be more comfortable this way. Modesty was wasted, at any rate. Seven hadn't given any indication she was aware of any change in my appearance.
I gestured toward her own skin-tight covering. "You may want to want to do something about that."
Her words were even more clipped than usual as she said, "I prefer to remain fully attired."
I shrugged. "Suit yourself." I continued pulling up several long grasses, along with some purple leaves from a plant growing alongside, and wove them together to form two vaguely bowl-shaped objects. I handed one to Seven. "It's a hat--to protect your head from the sun."
She took it and examined it closely before placing it on her head. The hat wobbled precariously. I grinned despite myself at the incongruous picture she presented. "Thank you, Commander."
We set out to explore the area surrounding the cave. So far we'd seen no signs that there was anyone here besides us, but I wanted to make sure. At frequent intervals, I tapped my comm badge, hoping for a response, for some indication that Voyager had survived the attack, shaken off her pursuers, and returned for us. So far, all evidence pointed to the contrary.
We halted at midday, in the shelter of a scrubby bush. The vegetation was getting sparser; ahead there was a bare expanse of plain upon which nothing grew. Seven was even paler than usual, and I couldn't tell if she was sweating. She refused a ration bar, and after only a few sips of water, leaned back and closed her eyes.
"Are you all right?"
She took her time answering. "I am feeling rather unwell," she finally admitted.
"Headache? Nausea?"
"Both." She attempted a smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "Perhaps I should have taken your advice regarding my clothing."
I stood, offering her my hand. "Let's get you back to the cave and see what we can do to make you more comfortable."
I heaved another boulder into place, and then paused to rub the aching muscles in my back. Lift with your knees, I reminded myself for perhaps the tenth time that morning. A week had gone by, and we still hadn't heard from Voyager. We'd begun fortifying the cave by constructing a wall a few meters in front of the entrance. I felt a growing sense of uneasiness, one I couldn't explain. It helped to expend my nervous energy with activity.
Seven approached and handed me a cup of water. I smiled at her. "Thanks." I took a long drink. "Did you have any luck?"
She held up some knobby green objects. "I have procured a number of tubers. They do not appear to contain any toxins."
I nodded, relieved. Despite our care, our Starfleet rations were almost completely exhausted, and we would soon have to begin including native flora in our diet. Even if I were not a vegetarian, there appeared to be a paucity of wildlife in this area. I started toward the mouth of the cave. "I'll show you how to roast them in the ashes."
"Commander?" There was an unfamiliar note in her voice that made me turn around.
"They'll taste better cooked," I told her. "The heat will also help destroy any potentially harmful microorganisms."
She pursed her lips, looking faintly annoyed. "I am aware of that."
"Then what's the problem?" I asked, puzzled.
She hesitated. "Never mind. It is not important." She brushed past me, clad in the makeshift dress we had fashioned from my shirt and several leaves similar to the ones I used to make our sunhats. It covered her more or less, although it left her arms and legs bare. I noticed that the exposed areas of her skin had turned red and begun to blister. I was grateful for my own darker complexion that made me less susceptible to the brutal sun.
As I ducked my head to enter our cave, an image flashed unbidden in my mind, of another time, another shelter, another woman with blue eyes that echoed the sky overhead.
She straightened up and smiled at me. The sun gleamed on her long hair, its rays making fiery magic of the loose waves. Her arms were muddied to the elbows, but her smile was carefree, her voice light as she announced, "These plants are doing very well--just think, in another six weeks, we'll be feasting on Talaxian tomatoes!"
I shook my head to dispel the memory and set about cooking our dinner.
Over yet another meal of roasted tubers--we hadn't found much to vary our diet with that wasn't toxic--I found myself wondering for perhaps the thousandth time what happened to Voyager. I looked up and noticed Seven was also staring at her comm badge, as if willing it to come to life.
"Just think of it as an extended camping trip," I said, attempting to alleviate her worries--and mine. Belatedly, I realized that the reference was probably meaningless to her.
She gave a small smile. "I remember once going camping with my parents."
Surprised, I said the first thing that came to mind. "You must have been very young."
"Yes. But I remember clearly the conversation my parents had. My mother wished to bring an ample supply of provisions with us. When my father expressed the thought that this would hardly be 'roughing it', my mother responded that she preferred the motto of 'always be prepared.'"
I laughed. "And did you end up 'roughing it'?"
"Yes." She proceeded to recount a story of the various mishaps that occurred during that trip. As glad as I was to see Seven finally start to open up a bit, I found my attention wandering. After a while, I became aware that she had stopped speaking.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but Seven shook her head. "It's all right, Commander." She tentatively reached out and rested her hand on mine. "As soon as she is able, the captain will return for us."
I looked down at her hand. She flushed and quickly pulled back. "I must remove the other tubers before they begin to burn." She busied herself at the fire.
I was struck by the confidence in her voice as she spoke of the captain. Seven undoubtedly believed that our rescue was imminent. Of course she would, as Kathryn had always managed to retrieve Seven from dangerous situations before, even in the face of considerable risk. With a start, I recalled something I hadn't thought of for years--of the time she'd risked the ship to rescue me from Seska and the Kazon.
"Keep your streak alive, Kathryn," I muttered.
"Did you say something, Commander?"
I glanced at the comm badge once again. "No, I was only thinking out loud."
Over the next two weeks, life settled into a routine of sorts. Foraging for food, scouting the area. Making improvements on our living quarters in the cave. I'd even constructed a rough table and a couple of benches.
It had been so long since I'd been on a planet for a prolonged period of time, but it all came back to me so easily --the rhythm and pace of the days, the sense that my life on Voyager seemed so long ago and far away. My new reality was harsh sunlight and brassy blue skies, as direct and uncompromising as the stare of a former drone attempting to learn the subtle nuances of behavior taken for granted in a lifetime spent among humans.
As I did on a daily basis, I studied Seven carefully while she sat at the table. She was currently absorbed in checking tricorder readings on various types of plants we'd collected that morning. I was concerned about her, but she seemed to be holding up all right and showed no ill-effects from our ordeal. Some weight loss, of course, but that was to be expected. I gradually became aware that I was being observed just as carefully. I smiled. Seven hesitated, and then turned back to her task.
At the beginning of our third week on the planet, I was having trouble fighting down a rising sense of concern. The power units in our equipment were beginning to run down. Seven wanted to dismantle the phasers and use their parts to help boost the range of our comm badges. I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't think it would make a difference.
A more immediate problem was the food situation. The tubers were becoming scarce, and we hadn't found anything else. Water was another worry. It hadn't rained at all during the time we'd been here, and the rivulet in the cave was beginning to run dry.
Looking up at the sky one morning, I was relieved when I saw the clouds moving in. But instead of a life-giving rain, this storm descended on us with the ferocity of a level IV plasma storm. At the first crack of thunder, I thought we were under attack. And so we were, but not by anything sentient. We retreated to the farthest recesses of the cave, but it still only provided only minimal protection from the violent winds, which carried stinging bits of sand and dust in their wake. Conversation was impossible; all we could do was crouch down and wait it out. It raged for hours, and didn't subside until long after sunset. In all that time, not a drop of rain had fallen.
I was suddenly reminded of another fierce storm, of huddling under a table until nature's fury was spent. It was a belief among my people that storms of such intensity were a sign of the gods' displeasure, and almost always signaled a cataclysmic change.
In the morning we'd have to survey the area and see what damage had been incurred. I ran my hand over my face wearily, no longer reacting in surprise at the rough feel of the beard. I was filthy, and hungry, and incredibly tired. I looked over at Seven. She looked as exhausted as I felt.
Where are you, Voyager? Will I ever see you again?
The damage caused by the storm was apparent as soon as we stepped out of the cave the next day. Several large boulders had fallen from the cliff, and the few bushes and trees in the area had been uprooted. The ground was littered with cracked branches and shredded foliage. I made my way carefully over a fallen trunk and started down the path to the plain.
In the utter stillness, a soft noise caught my attention. It took me a few seconds to place it, and then I realized I was hearing the sound of skittering pebbles. I glanced up and saw the movement on the mountainside.
"Seven!"
She was a few steps behind me. She paused and looked at me curiously, obviously unaware that something was wrong.
"It's a rockslide! We've got to get out of here!" I grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. "Come on!" She stumbled a bit, and then she began to run. We hadn't gotten very far, when with a sudden roar, what seemed like the entire face of the mountain came crashing down. The impact caused the ground to tremble violently and I was thrown to the ground.
"That was close," I breathed. "Way too close. Wouldn't you agree?" There was no answer. I whipped around and saw Seven lying deathly still, her leg bent at an odd angle.
I knelt down. "Seven? Can you hear me?" Her eyes briefly fluttered open. Blood was flowing from a gash above her optical implant. But she was still breathing.
When the dust settled, I could see at a glance that the opening to the cave was blocked. We were lucky we hadn't been inside, or we'd have been trapped. But our only shelter was gone.
I felt a twinge of pain in my side as I lifted Seven and carried her over to the shade of a large boulder on the plain. I laid her down as gently as possible, and set about trying to do something for her injuries.
She regained consciousness a few minutes later. "What happened?"
"Rockslide. Most of it missed us, but I think you were hit by some of the falling debris."
She nodded and then winced in pain. "Were you injured as well?"
"I'm fine." I finished putting another tie around the crude splint on her leg. "Is that too tight?"
"It appears to be…satisfactory." I noticed suddenly that my hand was resting on her inner thigh, and jerked it away.
The look in her eyes was unmistakable. "Chakotay, I--"
I said, tightly. "Stop right there, Seven, before you say something that both of us will regret later."
"You don't understand. I want to tell you how I--"
Understanding all too well, I cut her off once more. "Look, we've been stuck here on this planet for weeks now, we don't know when or if Voyager is going to come back for us, and our situation just got a lot more precarious than it was. It's natural for you to feel a little shaky and to want to reach out for some comfort." I took a deep breath. "Seven, I don't want to hurt you. I'm your friend. But I'm not interested in anything more."
She set her jaw stubbornly. "Your recent behavior indicates otherwise. There is the way you look at me when you think I am unaware, smile at me--and I thought, after all we'd been through, that you were starting to care for me."
"I was checking to see how you're holding up. Damn it, Seven, this isn't one of your little holodeck fantasies," I said harshly. "It's one of the oldest clichés in the book. A man and a woman are stranded together and become sexually if not romantically involved. Psychologists call it the 'Adam and Eve syndrome.' But ask yourself this, why would two people who hadn't shown the slightest inclination toward each other before suddenly get involved just due to an accident of fate?"
"Isn't that what happened with you and the captain?" she countered. "When you spent three months alone on a planet during the second year of Voyager's journey?"
I drew in a sharp intake of breath. "That's not what happened." I closed my eyes. New Earth…was that all it had been about? No--Kathryn and I had been drawn together earlier, but it was only there that we were able to pursue it, thanks to the aforementioned twist of fate. Not wanting to rush into anything, we took our time, because we thought we had all the time in the world. And we did--till Voyager came back for us.
I opened my eyes to see Seven staring at me. There was dawning understanding in her face. "Do you still love her?"
The question caught me off-guard. But I answered, saying the truth aloud for the first time, unvarnished and uncouched in any ancient legends, finally admitting my feelings underneath the broad blue skies of an alien world. "Yes, I do. And I always will."
Seven turned her head away from me. "As will I."
As if by coincidence, or the mockery of fate, my comm badge chose that moment to come to life. Voyager had returned.
The lighting in Sickbay seemed oddly muted after the planet surface. Everything was softer here, more toned down. Even the colors were not as harsh. I closed my eyes and sighed, enjoying the play of cool air against my face.
The Doctor had finished his preliminary scans, and after a cursory glance at some of my of scrapes and bruises, was working on Seven. He'd already treated her concussion and broken leg, and now turned his attention to the sunburned areas of her skin.
I looked up just then, as the door opened and the captain entered. She stood motionless for a moment, taking in the scene before her.
The EMH noticed her presence and began to deliver his report. "Except for some minor abrasions, the Commander is fine. Seven of Nine, on the other hand--"
She cut him off in midsentence. "Thank you, Doctor."
She headed directly for the biobed where I was sitting. Closer, closer--she didn't stop until she was standing only inches away from me.
Her eyes met mine. In their gray-blue depths, in the tiny lines etched around them, I saw the tensions of the past three weeks, added to the ones that had been accumulating since the beginning of our journey. But there was more to her look than simple worry. It was as though she was searching for something in my face, as if there were questions she would like to ask but was unsure of whether she had the right to or not. I did not look away, but met her gaze steadily.
After a long moment, she nodded imperceptibly, as if she was satisfied with what she'd found. She reached out and gently brushed the back of her hand against my cheek. It felt like the merest whisper on my skin.
"Welcome home, Chakotay," she said softly.
FINIS