Memento Mihi

"I want my engines back, Seven, and I want them back now."

If Seven picked up on the note of hostility in B'Elanna's voice, she didn't acknowledge it. However, she was quite aware of the glare that was leveled at the back of her head. One had to be dead not to feel it. Seven merely chose to ignore it, concentrating on the task at hand instead. Her fingers flew over the console, moving much faster than was normal for humans, while her gaze remained fixed to the screen. She knew she could go even faster than that, but that would mean to trade precision for speed. Unacceptable. "I require approximately two more minutes, Lieutenant."

"You've got exactly two more seconds to step away from that console. Is that understood?" Crossing her arms over her chest, B'Elanna all but tapped her foot as she waited for a response. A response that had well damn better be along the lines of "affirmative", or else she would do something she might not even regret later.

She had been patient, far more patient that could be expected under the circumstances. Even on the best of days she didn't like giving up control of her engines, and today wasn't even a remotely good one. And she had been forced to leave her poor engines in the hands of Seven of Nine, of all people. Not a good combination by any means, but B'Elanna had exercised remarkable restraint and not followed through on what the evil voice in her head demanded she do.

Right now, still waiting for a response, she wished she had though. "Seven," she growled.

Seven paused just long enough to cast a brief glance over her shoulder. "Your behavior is illogical," she said, slight irritation slipping into her voice. "I cannot finish these modifications with the speed you want me to, unless you cease distracting me."

B'Elanna's glare went up a notch, and in her imagination, Seven's hair began to sizzle. The mental image gave her only momentary satisfaction. "Then don't finish them. We don't have any more time to spend on an experiment that may not even be successful. The Captain will give the order to go to warp soon. Do you want to be the one to explain this to her when she says, 'Engage,' and nothing happens?"

Seven wasn't deterred. "These modifications will increase the warp engines' efficiency by 10.7 percent. Captain Janeway will understand."

B'Elanna, just this close to breaking something, preferably Seven's nose, decided to resort to more drastic measures. She slapped her combadge with enough force to leave a combadge-shaped bruise on her chest. "Torres to Chakotay."

"Chakotay here. Go ahead."

"Would you mind coming to Engineering and getting that Borg out of my hair?"

"I don't have time for this, B'Elanna."

The engineer in her was quite pleased with how well sighs transmitted over the comlink, but Klingon in her was annoyed. "If you think this is a request, you're mistaken. You'd better come down here if you don't want any bodies to dispose of later."

"That bad?"

"Worse. Much, much worse."

"I'll be there in a minute. Chakotay out."

B'Elanna busied herself with necessary preparations to bring the warp core back online, ignoring Seven for the time being. Chakotay would handle her which was the best solution for all involved. Excluding Chakotay himself, of course. B'Elanna just hoped he would still talk to her afterwards.

Just then the doors opened and Chakotay marched into the room, heading straight for her. He wasn't a happy camper.

So much for that idea.

"Over there." B'Elanna gestured in the general direction of the warp core in hopes of steering him away from her. She needed a lecture from him as much as she needed a hole in her head. Besides which, what better way to put his bad mood to use than have him take it out on Seven? Perhaps that would teach Voyager's resident ex-Borg to mess with B'Elanna's engines -- at least for the time being.

Chakotay came to stand next to the warp core. "Seven."

"Commander," Seven acknowledged. Her gaze remained fixed on the three-dimensional display of the warp field, so she never saw his brows draw into a straight line at her curt reply. Just a few more modifications and the field would be stable. Ignoring Chakotay completely then, she joined B'Elanna in the fore section of Engineering and programmed the last sequence of commands into the computer.

For a split second, Engineering was bathed in bright light.

B'Elanna was the first to shake off the confusion, her head snapping up. "Computer, run a level two diagnostic on warp drive systems."

"Antimatter containment positive," the dispassionate voice said after a moment's pause. "Warp drive within normal parameters."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she shot Seven a look that could have made Hell freeze over. "What was that?"

A frown etched itself into Seven's forehead as she checked and rechecked the modifications, but couldn't find anything amiss. "I do not know, Lieutenant. There should not have been any visible phenomenon outside the warp drive."

"I'm glad we're in agreement for once. Now get busy. I want to know what happened and I want it reversed if necessary. Is that understood?" B'Elanna's posture made it quite plain that this time, she wouldn't take no for an answer.

Seven acknowledged the order with a nod and went back to Engineering's mid-section, to run more diagnostics on both the warp core and the recently added modifications. After a moment, she stopped and scanned the room for Chakotay, but couldn't find him. Curious. "Lieutenant Torres, when did the Commander leave?"

*

Back in his office, Chakotay continued to work on the duty rosters that he had been forced to put aside when B'Elanna had called him down to Engineering. It was a tedious job, filled with hours upon hours of hard work, a million things to take into consideration, and generally a lot of banging his head on the desk.

Chakotay loved it.

For one thing, it gave him the perfect opportunity to retaliate whenever Tom Paris screwed up. A little tweaking here and there and Paris would find himself working double shifts for as long as Chakotay saw fit. Though he had to acknowledge that it had been more effective before B'Elanna and Tom had become a couple. Nowadays this sort of punishment usually resulted in a miserable Half-Klingon which in turn made for a miserable Engineering crew. He normally ended up changing Tom's shifts back to normal before Engineering personnel could make his life miserable.

For another, it allowed him to schedule off time for certain people who tended to ignore their body's need for sleep. He had the sneaking suspicion that if she were in charge of the rosters, she would never leave Deck 1. She already spent too much time on the bridge as it was . . .

All in all, the benefits of this job outweighed any negative aspects. But even if they didn't, duty roster would still be preferable to dealing with an enraged chief engineer and an over-confident ex-drone. A shudder passed through Chakotay at the mere thought, even though the situation had worked out in the end. Still, he preferred not to dwell on it any longer than was truly necessary, and then there was work waiting to be done.

He focused his attention back at the task at hand. Not quite sure where he had so abruptly left off, he ordered the computer to display the names of all available personnel who had not yet been added to next week's duty roster. A short moment and an acknowledging beep later, the list was complete.

Or rather, it wasn't.

Chakotay's brows drew into a straight line as he stared at the screen. Through years of practice, he had become rather adept at doing rosters, but even he couldn't complete two thirds of the task in just under two hours. "Computer, compare current listing to a list of all personnel not yet added to next week's duty roster, and output data on my terminal."

Crewman Telfer's name popping up among those crewmembers currently incapacitated gave Chakotay momentary pause. Telfer had practically been cured from his hypochondriac tendencies ever since his run-in with dark matter life forms. To see his name on any sick list was a rare occasion indeed.

When the computer was done, Chakotay's confusion grew. Other than Telfer, five other crewmembers were listed unfit for duty, but that still didn't explain why the duty roster was well near completion. "Computer, run a diagnostic on database systems."

"Diagnostic complete, no errors found," the computer informed him after a moment's pause.

"Has anyone except me accessed the duty roster database in the past half an hour?"

"Negative."

"Is it just me then?" Chakotay muttered under his breath.

"Please rephrase the question."

"I wasn't talking to you," Chakotay snapped.

The computer accepted his rebuff with a cheerful beep and lapsed into silence.

While he was staring at the screen, one explanation after another crossed Chakotay's mind, and one by one, they were discarded. In the end, the only one making the remotest bit of sense was that he must have been working faster than he had been aware of. Either that, or the crew complement had been diminished during the past thirty minutes.

He nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of that idea.

Time to look at the bright side, he thought. With the duty rosters nearly done, he would have time to complete other work before his shift ended, which allowed for a bit of actual spare time afterwards, barring any unforeseen problems. Perhaps he would even get around to finishing the last few pages of Dante's "Inferno". Kathryn would surely want her copy back some time soon, seeing as he had had it for about six months now.

Decidedly cheered by the prospect, Chakotay got a cup of herbal tea from the replicator and went back to work with renewed determination. The cup stopped in midair when he pulled up the current version of the duty roster.

The good news was, the listing was likely to be the one he remembered working on. The bad news was, it meant that Voyager was short of eight crewmembers.

Just to make sure, he checked the list twice in hopes of merely having missed those names, but to no avail. There was no sign of Crewmen Larson, Mitchell, White, Doyle, Foster, or Ensigns Baytart, Bristow, Culhane on the list.

"Computer, are any crewmembers currently not on board?"

"Negative."

"What the heck is going on?" Chakotay asked in irritation. Part of him fully expected the computer to answer again. When it became apparent that it wouldn't, he tapped his combadge. "Chakotay to Torres."

"Torres here."

"I need you to check the ship's systems. They're either malfunctioning or someone has tampered with them. I want to know in either case, and I want to know yesterday."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"According to the computer, eight crewmembers are missing, but at the same time, it insists all personnel is accounted for."

"That makes no sense."

"Exactly. I want to know which of the two is true, so get to work."

"Understood. B'Elanna out."

Chakotay downloaded all relevant data into a PADD and headed off to the bridge to brief Janeway and Tuvok on the possibility that some of the crew were missing.

*

"Tuvok, check the ship's logs for any camouflaged security breach and conduct a deck by deck search," Kathryn said, leaning against the edge of her desk, arms crossed over her chest. "If we're missing crew, I want to know and I want to know why."

"Aye, Captain." Tuvok looked slightly uncomfortable when he left the Ready Room.

Chakotay didn't blame him. Tuvok never took well to being outsmarted when it came to security protocols. If he weren't Vulcan, he would probably see it as a personal affront. As it was, he might still see it that way, but was decidedly better at concealing it than other people Chakotay knew. Like Kathryn Janeway.

A sideway glance at her told him that this time was different, somehow. She appeared entirely too calm about this, and it made him uneasy. Where was the woman that was known to fight tooth and nail for her crew?

"Chakotay . . ."

He was startled by the tentative note to her voice. "Yes?"

"Tell me again who's missing."

"Crewmen Larson, Mitchell, White, Doyle, Foster, and Ensigns Baytart, Bristow, Culhane," he replied, more than a little confused by her question. And the thoughtful expression that crossed her features didn't help matters any.

"I don't recall those names."

Granted, they were not exactly people she had daily contact with, but then, he had seen her recite the names of her whole crew from memory on a few occasions.

Something was seriously wrong.

"I do, vividly." Chakotay began to pace, his brain kicking into overdrive. The whole situation seemed vaguely familiar, as if they had been through this before. But the memory hovered just outside his reach, so close and yet so far away. It was frustrating.

Her calming hand stopped him mid-pace. Steering him over to the couch, she made him sit down and went to the replicator. When she came back, she was holding two steaming cups and handed one to him. He took it gratefully, hoping that the hot beverage would help him relax. He had always been better at solving problems when he was relaxed. This time was no different. As the hot liquid slid down his throat, his body began to relax and his mind finally made the connection.

"Could we be dealing with another virus like the one the Ramura planted in our systems some years ago?" he asked.

Kathryn gave it some serious thought as she took a sip of what was undoubtedly coffee. "That would explain why our database has no records of those crewmembers."

"Exactly. And Ramura's physiology had them produce a pheromone that blocked the long-term memory engrams of other species. At least, according to my handwritten notes."

"They're probably accurate," she said. "After all, no one remembers the Ramura at all. But if we're dealing with something similar, I don't see why you're the only one not affected."

"Neither do I, to be honest," he admitted. "All I know is that those eight crewmembers do exist. I'm not making them up."

"I believe you, Chakotay."

Her words were like balm on his troubled mind and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I was beginning to think I was going crazy."

"Oh, I don't think so. This is the Delta Quadrant, remember? Nothing ever is what it appears to be. I'm sure we'll figure out what's going on soon enough."

*

Chakotay didn't have high expectations when he entered the conference room and slid into his usual seat. He had a feeling he knew what Tuvok was going to report.

The Vulcan didn't disappoint. "There are no signs of the crewmembers Commander Chakotay reported missing, Captain."

"Any indication of intruders?" Kathryn asked.

"None."

Of course. That would have been too easy.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he prayed for strength. The way this was going, he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that B'Elanna's report would be equally helpful to solve the puzzle.

Kathryn leaned back in her chair and raised a brow at B'Elanna. "Lieutenant?"

"We've run every diagnostic we could think of twice," B'Elanna said, shooting Chakotay a sympathetic look. "There's nothing wrong with the computer. All systems are within normal parameters."

Perhaps if he pinched his arm, he would wake up from this strange dream. But even as the thought formed, he knew it was wishful thinking. However absurd the situation, it felt much too real to be but a dream. His headache certainly felt real enough.

"Could this be the work of Q?" Paris asked.

Chakotay slowly shook his head. "As much as I'd like to believe he's involved, this isn't his style."

Kathryn cocked her head. "I don't think we shouldn't completely rule out that possibility just yet. After all, he has showed interest in making fun of you before."

"True," Chakotay admitted. "But he's a gloater. If this was his doing, he'd be here by now to let us know about it."

He was just about ready to suggest he have the Doctor check him when Seven spoke up. "I believe I have another possible explanation. Lieutenant Torres, do you remember the modifications to the warp field?"

B'Elanna snorted. "How could I forget."

In one fluid movement, Seven got up and activated the wall terminal, calling up the specifications of the new warp field. She turned to the Captain. "I have been trying to improve engine's efficiency."

"I've read your reports," Kathryn said, nodding.

"We did a test run," Seven continued. "Here is what the computer recorded." The display changed then, showing them another three-dimensional warp field, slightly different from the original one. "This is the static warp field I created within the warp drive. The experiment was designed to see if we could keep a bubble like this intact."

B'Elanna continued. "Only, we couldn't. There was a momentary flash of light. It was all over the spectrum."

"I remember that," Chakotay said slowly, still studying the display.

"Are you suggesting that a bubble could have made crewmembers disappear?" Kathryn asked. He could see the wheels turning in her head; she was a scientist after all.

"Yes, Captain. If they were caught in," Seven replied. "It would seem to us like they disappeared."

The theory was sound and filled Chakotay with hope. "Were would they go?"

"Who knows," B'Elanna replied, shrugging. "They might even be outside the normal space-time continuum."

"Did the bubble ever expand beyond Engineering, B'Elanna?" Kathryn asked.

"No, Captain."

"So much for that idea," Chakotay said, his shoulder slumping every so slightly. "At least one of the Ensigns could not possibly have been near Engineering at the time. Ensign Culhane is stationed on Deck 15 and was on duty at that point."

"Besides which," Kathryn added, "I doubt that a warp bubble could erase computer logs or alter memories. Still, keep at it, Lieutenant, Seven. It's our only working theory for now."

"Maybe we also should have Ensign Kim scan for any anomalies," Chakotay suggested.

He didn't quite like how all heads turned to him then.

"Who?" Paris asked in confusion.

Chakotay nearly groaned.

*

The lights were dimmed as Chakotay entered Sickbay, a dead giveaway that the Doctor was currently inactive. "Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram," he said, praying that the EMH hadn't been erased from history yet.

Luck was with him for once, and the Doctor shimmered into existence. "Please state the nature of-"

"I need you to check me thoroughly," Chakotay cut him off. "For chemical imbalance, abnormal neurological readings, anything that could explain why I'm the only one who remembers all crew." He didn't want to acknowledge the alternative.

"About time," the Doctor said as he hustled Chakotay towards a biobed. "I'd expected you a lot sooner, so everything is prepared. Just lie down and keep still."

Gritting his teeth, Chakotay refrained from commenting on the Doctor's bedside manners and lay down. "How long will this take, Doctor?"

"About an hour if you keep still." The EMH corrected Chakotay's position on the bed, then activated the medical arch which promptly slid up and enclosed him. "But seeing as no one ever listens to me, I'm reckoning with two hours at least. I could sedate you, however."

At the rate the crew was disappearing, Chakotay didn't have two hours to waste. "Fine with me. The sooner this is done, the better."

On any other day, Chakotay would have enjoyed the flicker of surprised that crossed the Doctor's features, but he was too preoccupied to truly appreciate the rare occurrence. What if the scan revealed nothing new? What if it did? Thoughts of his grandfather came to mind unbidden, but he quickly quenched them. He was not crazy.

A moment later, a hypospray was pressed against his neck and nothing mattered anymore as the world faded to black . . .

"Chakotay? Chakotay, can you hear me?"

Nice voice - familiar, too. Where had he heard it before?

"Give him a few moments, Captain. The sedative will have worn off soon."

Another familiar voice, but not nearly as nice. Gruff with a sarcastic note to it . . .

The Doctor's voice, he realized when his mind slowly penetrated the surrounding haze. Sickbay. He was in Sickbay. What was he doing in Sickbay? Prying one eye open, he braced himself for the bright light that would undoubtedly assault his retina first chance it got.

It didn't come; Kathryn was blocking it effectively.

Why did she look so concerned? Had he had an accident?

"Nice of you to join us in the waking world, Commander." The Doctor again, insufferable as always.

The haze around his mind dissipated rather quickly then and memory returned. When he tried to get up however, the world began spinning and he clutched his head. "What was in that sedative, Doctor?" he asked, an accusing note slipping into his voice.

The EMH huffed at that, but Kathryn stepped in before he got a chance to reply. "Can we focus here, please?" For a moment, it looked as if the Doctor was going to object, but her glare made him reconsider and he nodded. "Good. So what did you find?"

"Nothing but elevated stress levels," he said, decidedly annoyed. "Whatever is causing this, there's no medical reason."

Which only meant that they weren't any closer to solving this puzzle than they were before. "Thank you, Doctor. I take it that I'm fit to leave?"

"Of course, Commander."

When he tried to get up this time, the world didn't spin out of control. Good. At least his body was receptive to input again.

He and Kathryn left Sickbay together, silently walking along Voyager's corridors. He wondered what she was thinking. It wouldn't surprise him if she was beginning to doubt his sanity. He would be doing the same thing if he were in her shoes; his story was certainly unrealistic enough.

Oh, well. There was only one way to find out.

He touched her shoulder lightly to get her attention, and waited until she turned around. "I want an honest answer, Kathryn. Have I gone completely mad?"

"If you can ask the question, I'd say no, Chakotay."

"Don't evade the question."

Her features softened. "Then ask me one I can answer."

"Kathryn, I served side by side with people that no longer exist. No one else remembers them. Yet I can close my eyes and see their faces as clearly as I see yours now." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "What if it's not some huge conspiracy? What if it is just me?"

"What if it is just you?" she asked, raising a brow at him.

"Then I've frightened a lot of people," he sighed. "Including myself."

"So what? You've acted in the best interest of this ship and its crew. And if this turns out to be a mistake, that's okay. It would certainly beat the alternative."

"It's not a mistake," he insisted. "I wish it were."

"Chakotay . . ."

His eyes narrowed; he had heard that tone one too many times today. "I'll be in Engineering," he announced abruptly and headed off in the opposite direction, before she got the chance to reply.

*

Engineering was deserted when Chakotay arrived. "Seven?" he called, scanning the room. Someone had been working on the terminal to his left. He noticed a variety of tools cluttered on the ground, as if the owner had every intention of returning to his work. Somehow, he doubted that.

Moving farther into the room, Chakotay tried again. "Seven? Are you there?"

A wave of relief swept over him as she appeared from behind the warp core, nodding to him. "Commander."

"Have you made any progress?" he asked as he joined her at her workstation.

"Regarding what, precisely?"

He frowned. "The warp bubble theory. Don't tell me you've forgotten all about it." That would be new. Up until this point, only people had been erased from history, not actual events.

"I have not." She shot him a brief glance. "However, I do no longer believe that a static warp bubble could be the cause of the crew's . . . disappearance."

"You don't believe me, do you." It was a statement rather than a question. He had heard the disbelief in her voice. "I don't have time to convince you, Seven," he continued, harsher than he had intended. "So let's assume, for sake of argument, that I'm right and people are stuck inside the bubble. How would we go about freeing them?"

"Theoretically," she stressed the word, "we would need to open a stable portal to allow them to cross over."

"Could you do that?"

"I would require help from someone who can work at the speed necessary to keep the portal stable."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Icheb."

It made sense. As another former Borg, Icheb could easily match Seven's speed. That is, if he was still a member of this crew . . .

"However," Seven interrupted his thoughts, "we would also need to return to the exact coordinates we were at at the time of the bubble's creation."

"Okay, let's try that. I'll go inform the Captain," he said, starting in the direction of the doors.

"Commander . . ."

Chakotay was beginning to hate hearing that tone.

"That's an . . ." The words died on his lips when he glanced over his shoulder, only to see that Seven had vanished, too.

He left Engineering at a dead run.

*

When the vortex opened up behind him, Chakotay only had a split second to react before the suction set in. Grabbing onto the doorframe of the turbolift he'd been about to step onto, he hold on for dear life as the world behind him distorted and tried to suck him into the strange, blue opening.

The noise was deafening, reminiscent of rolling thunder echoing in a canyon. Only louder. Much, much louder. Barely did he repress the impulse to cover his ears, for to do so would mean to let go of his lifeline.

Only, his fingers started slipping anyway.

While he desperately tried to hold on, the noise, and more importantly, the suction stopped all of a sudden. Chakotay dropped to the floor, hitting it at an odd angle. The pain that shot through his right hipbone told him that he would be bruised tomorrow, but he couldn't care less. The way this day was deteriorating, there might not even be a tomorrow.

Chakotay picked himself up off the floor and stared at the spot where the vortex had been only moments before. "Computer," he said, "scan Deck 11. Any anomalous readings?"

"Negative."

With an acknowledging grunt, he stepped onto the turbolift and punched in his preferred destination. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he'd be having any more conversations with computer any time soon. He briefly wondered why he'd even bothered asking this stupid piece of technology; it certainly hadn't been very helpful as of late.

Even though Chakotay had fully expected the Bridge to be empty, the eerie silence that greeted him when he arrived there still sent shivers up and down his spine. Slowly, he walked down to the main level and let his gaze sweep over every vacant workstation. His memory easily and without prompting, provided the faces and names of every crewmember who was supposed to be on Bridge duty right now, from the senior staff to the lowest crewman. It was disconcerting.

Slumping down in his chair, he considered what he should do next. That is, if there was anything he could do. With Seven and Icheb gone, there was no one to go through with her plan to open a portal. He certainly couldn't do it on his own, lacking not only the required speed but also the knowledge to do it.

His eyes closed in despair.

"Do I need to put you on report for sleeping on duty, Commander?"

Chakotay jumped a whole three feet, his eyes snapping open. For several moments, all he could do was stare at her standing with her hands on her hips and a twinkle in her eyes. Why hadn't he heard her enter the Bridge?

For that matter, why hadn't she vanished like the rest?

"Chakotay?" Kathryn asked, a concerned note creeping into her voice. "Are you all right?"

His laughter shocked him as much as it did her, but he couldn't have stopped to save his life. Tears started streaming down his cheeks as the full belly laughs rocked his body. It took all of five minutes before he had calmed down enough to try to answer. "Have you stopped to look around today, Kathryn? We're alone on this damned ship, without a crew to maintain it. It couldn't be farther from all right if I tried!"

"Chakotay . . ."

"Don't say it," he cut her off and sat back down. "Just don't. I realize you think I've gone raving mad, but I assure you, I'm perfectly lucid." At her doubtful look, he felt the laughter press against his throat again, but with a force of will, he fought it back. "You and me, alone on a ship that's lost in the Delta Quadrant. No crew. Doesn't that bother you?"

Kathryn crouched in front of him. "We never needed crew before, Chakotay."

"Kathryn, listen to yourself. Are you telling me you and I survived seven years in the Delta Quadrant? Two people against the Kazon, the Vidiians, the Hirogen, the Borg - the BORG - and we're still alive to tell the tale? Who treated us when we were injured? Who captained the ship when we both were incapacitated? Why does Voyager have fifteen decks for a crew complement of two?" He could see that his words didn't have the desired effect, and sighed. "It's all perfectly logical to you, isn't it."

Kathryn sat down in the big chair, but didn't deem it necessary to reply, for which he was grateful. Chakotay was at the end of his rope. To actually hear her speak the words that must be going through her mind now would undo him.

For the next few moments, neither of them spoke, but Chakotay couldn't help keeping close tabs on her. He had never actually seen a crewmember vanish, so he was hoping that if he just kept her in eyesight all the time, she wouldn't disappear like the others.

She turned to him at last. "Have I sprouted a second head?"

"Sorry," he offered, grinning in spite of himself. "I just don't want you to disappear."

"I won't, I promise."

The sincerity in her expressive eyes touched him. No matter what she thought of his strange behavior, she was perfectly serious now. Unfortunately, he knew it was only a matter of time before she'd be forced to break her promise. Before long, she would disappear too, and there wasn't a thing in the world he could do about it.

The thought put things into perspective for him.

"Kathryn."

"Yes?"

He had waited until she looked at him again, but the intensity of her gaze caught him unawares. He lowered his eyes. "There's something I always wanted to tell you, and I might not have another chance. Kathryn . . ." Taking a deep breath, he prayed for courage and looked up.

She was gone.

Something inside him died.

*

Kathryn looked at her senior staff, one by one, seeing her own fears reflected in their eyes. Even Tuvok didn't radiate his usual Vulcan calmness. "What's our status?" she asked, carefully avoiding to look at the one vacant seat at the conference table.

"We've returned to the exact coordinates we where at at the time of the bubble's creation," Tom reported, clearly distraught that that was all he could do to help.

Kathryn could sympathize. There wasn't a whole lot she could do either, which only served to agitate her more. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she acknowledged with a small smile. "B'Elanna, Seven, any progress?"

"No," the engineer all but growled. Kathryn almost expected her to slam her hand on the table, too. "Our attempt to create a stable portal wasn't very successful. It destabilized after 12 seconds. But what's more," she continued, and this time her frustration was tinged with fear, "the bubble has shrunk to half its size because of it."

"Is it still stable, though?" Kathryn asked slowly, needing to know, but dreading the answer at the same time.

"At the moment. The problem is, by Seven's and my estimation we'll get only one more shot at this before the bubble is too small for even our enhanced sensors to detect. We think we know what went wrong the first time, though," B'Elanna added with a sideward glance at the ex-Borg.

Seven shared her insight without much prompting. "The warp bubble's frequency keeps changing at high speed. To create a stable link, the portal's frequency must match that of the warp bubble."

"The catch is," B'Elanna continued, "the frequency keeps changing at too high a speed for the average human, and all attempts to program the computer to compensate for it have failed."

"However," Seven added before Kathryn got a word in edgewise, "I am confident that we have found a solution. Lieutenant Torres is right, the average human cannot work at the speed required to accomplish this task successfully, but Icheb and I can."

"Does Icheb possess the necessary knowledge to be able to assist you, Seven?" Kathryn asked.

"I believe so."

"Okay then, people, let's do it. Dismissed."

As her staff filed out of the room, Kathryn gazed at the stationary stars, hoping their plan would work out.

*

Chakotay had been aimlessly wandering through the corridors before he returned to the Bridge, to take his seat in the big chair. It really was his seat now, wasn't it?

He felt a pang at the thought. Seven years ago he might have entertained the idea of taking over the ship, but that had been before he'd come to know Voyager's crew and its captain. They'd certainly come a long way since then; now they were family to him.

Lost family.

Part of him wished he had disappeared along with them. What chance did he stand at ever getting them back? He was the only crewmember now, the computer had confirmed that for him, and Starfleet was thousands of light-years away.

Chakotay straightened in his seat all of a sudden. Okay, enlisting Starfleet's help wasn't an option, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was out of help. The Delta Quadrant, if not exactly densely populated, certainly wasn't vacant. He'd just have to find a friendly species that would be both willing and able to help him.

Somehow, he was glad that Tuvok wasn't here to calculate the odds for that.

"Computer, scan for populated M-class planets and output data on the viewscreen."

The computer beeped in affirmation, but the screen remained dark. "No M-class planets found," it told him.

That couldn't be. He'd seen a map of this sector in Astrometrics before this whole mess. A sneaking suspicion began to gnaw at his mind. "Activate viewscreen," he instructed. The black screen was replaced by a view at . . . something. Chakotay didn't know what it was, but it sure looked too blue and starless to be space. "Computer, what is this blue . . . mist I'm seeing?"

"Sensors indicate it to be a mass energy field of 378 meters in diameter."

"It surrounds the ship?"

"Affirmative."

Slowly the pieces began to fit together and Chakotay felt a renewed sense of hope. There was nothing wrong with him. Absolutely nothing. But maybe there was something wrong with the universe. "Computer, what is beyond the mass energy field?"

"Sensors cannot penetrate the field."

So much for that idea. "Okay, here's a question you shouldn't be able to answer. Computer, what's the nature of the universe?"

"The universe is a spheroid region 378 meters in diameter."

"Give me a graphic representation of the universe," he ordered as soon as he had shaken off his astonishment. The screen changed again and now he was glad he was already seated; his legs sure felt wobbly all of a sudden.

The display clearly showed a three-dimensional representation of a warp bubble. The last piece of this puzzle snapped into place then, and he nearly groaned. Of course. Why hadn't he ever considered this angle? Not the crew was trapped in a warp bubble. He was.

His joy at this revelation was short-lived however; the ship rocked violently then, nearly throwing him off the chair. "Computer," he snapped, "what's happening?"

"Explosive decompression decks three through eight. Closing off forward section."

Chakotay had a feeling he knew what that meant, and a look at the screen confirmed his suspicion. The bubble, his bubble, was slowly collapsing.

*

To watch Seven and Icheb work on creating a stable link was making Kathryn dizzy, but she couldn't have looked away to save her life. Still, the speed at which their hands moved was, for lack of a better word, amazing. She just hoped it was enough, too.

A hand was placed on her shoulder then. Startled, Kathryn turned around to look into the compassionate face of her Chief Engineer. "They're good," B'Elanna said with a nod in Seven and Icheb's direction. "The energy output is stable so far, looks like we'll succeed this time. The portal should open any moment now."

B'Elanna wanted to say more, but the computer started to beep a warning at them. She hurried back to her workstation, then cursed as she saw the display. "Dammit! The bubble is collapsing."

Kathryn paled. "How long until it's gone?"

"Four minutes, twenty-two seconds if the rate doesn't increase."

*

"Computer, how long can life support be maintained?"

"Three minutes, ten seconds to life support failure."

Great. Just great. How was he supposed to find a way out of this mess in just about three minutes?

"Computer, hypothetical situation." He waited for the acknowledging beep. "A person is stuck inside a static warp bubble. Determine means of escape."

"An escape would theoretically depend on the establishment of a stable threshold between the warp field and the outer environment."

Of course. Seven had said something similar, hadn't she? "Describe this threshold."

"Unable to comply. There are no known practical applications of this theory."

He'd single-handedly dismantle the computer if he ever got the chance. "Extrapolate from theoretical database," he snapped. "How would it manifest itself?"

"A dynamic, atmospheric disturbance of great intensity."

Disturbance . . . His spine snapped into a straight line. The vortex! They must have been trying to reach him. The problem was, how did he find it now and in the time left?

"Think," he muttered to himself, "think."

Where would they try to open the threshold? What was the most logical place to do so?

Engineering!

"One minute, thirty seconds to life support failure," the computer informed him.

Chakotay made a beeline for the turbolift. "Engineering," he ordered as the doors slid shut behind him.

"Failure in turboshaft three, unable to proceed to Main Engineering."

He felt like screaming. "Just take me anywhere on Deck 11!"

To his eternal relief, the lift started moving without any more comments from the soon-to-be dismantled computer. Pacing the lift like a caged animal, he impatiently waited for the lift to stop. When it did, Chakotay was outside before the doors had a chance to open completely.

Which was a good thing, seeing as only seconds later, the lift got swallowed by the blue mass energy field. And it was headed straight for him.

Chakotay ran.

*

Where one moment there was only the warp core, now there was a small portal opening. Kathryn watched it, mesmerized by the disturbance which was quickly growing, bathing Engineering in a blue light.

"We're losing the bubble!" B'Elanna yelled over the accompanying noise. "Twelve seconds to collapse."

Kathryn wasn't a religious person by far, but now she found herself praying to whatever deity was willing to listen that they'd manage to rescue Chakotay in the nick of time.

*

Chakotay reached Engineering short of breath, but his attention was drawn by the vortex on the main level. Precious seconds passed as he stood watching it. But when the noise of the ship collapsing penetrated his mind, he jumped . . .

And hit his head on a workstation. "Ugh . . ."

A moment later, soft, small hands grabbed his shoulders. "Chakotay!"

Her yell made his head explode. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

He let Kathryn help him off the floor. Then, the moment he was standing on his own two feet, he crushed her body to his in a bear hug. She offered no resistance but returned the embrace just as forcefully.

B'Elanna was the next to hug him and she very nearly cracked his ribs. "Glad to have you back, Chakotay!"

"I'm glad to be back," he assured her. "Thank you, B'Elanna."

"Don't thank me." She nodded towards Seven and Icheb who both were leaning heavily against their respective workstations. "Thank them."

He did.

*

She found him in Holodeck 2. On any normal day, she would have wondered about that. He was a quiet man, not the type to spend hours upon hours in Sandrine's. Today was anything but normal, though, and she didn't even bat an eyelash.

He had chosen a table in the far-off corner and was watching the crowd that had gathered around the pool table. Her gaze followed his just in time to see Tom win another game and collect his spoils. Kathryn shook her head in amusement. She was itching to take him down a peg or two, but she didn't have time for that. Not now. Her eyes drifted back to her First Officer. She started in his direction.

"Is this seat taken?" Kathryn asked, gesturing to the one vacant chair at his table.

He raised his head and looked at her, not at all surprised at her presence. He'd kept close tabs on her ever since she entered the room. Just like he'd kept close tabs on just about everyone who had entered Sandrine's at one point or another. He did, however, marvel at her question. He could say yes, and she'd leave him alone, no questions asked, even though she'd know it would be a lie.

It was tempting. He knew she would have questions that he wasn't sure he was prepared to answer, or for that matter, able to answer. But then, the alternative was a lot less appealing . . .

"Have a seat, Captain," he said and watched her shake her head in disapproval.

"Not the Captain," she chided him softly as she slid in the chair next to him. "This is Kathryn, your friend. I thought you'd need a friend more than a superior officer, in case you want to talk."

He'd wondered about her lack of uniform, but hadn't wanted to presume. "I take it you've read my report?"

"Of course. Even though I was surprised to find it on my desk. I distinctly remember giving you the rest of the day off."

"And I appreciate that. It's just . . ." He paused, staring into his drink. "I had to write it all down to be done with it."

"It didn't help, did it?" she asked softly.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "No, it didn't."

"Have you tried contacting your spirit guide?"

"I can't relax enough to reach her. Every time I'm alone in my quarters, I keep expecting the crew to disappear in the meantime."

That explained what he was doing in Sandrine's. Ever since Tom resurrected the program, it had become as popular as it had been in their early years in the Delta Quadrant.

"I could keep you company. That is, if that'd be acceptable," she added quickly at seeing the flash of disbelief in his eyes.

He stared at her in amazement, then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. "I'd like that."

They left Sandrine's quickly after that. Once in his quarters, Kathryn settled on the couch while Chakotay went to his bedroom to retrieve his medicine bundle. She eyed him curiously when he came back, and a little uncertain too. "What do you want me to do, Chakotay?"

"Just make yourself comfortable. This could take a while."

She settled more comfortably into the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. Her gaze remained fixed on him, watching in fascination as he moved the coffee table and sat down on the floor.

Chakotay carefully opened the bundle of leather and picked up every item, one by one, before he placed them down again, arranging them in a circular pattern. The akoonah came last and was placed right in the middle. When he was done, he looked back at her. His dark eyes bore into hers. "Thank you," he said quietly, solemnly.

"Any time," she replied, meaning it.

With a nod and a dimpled smile, he looked back at his medicine bundle and placed his right hand on the akoonah. Closing his eyes, he began to recite the words that she'd heard only once before.

THE END

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