(By Penny A. Proctor. Paramount owns Voyager and its characters – and look how they treat them. This is a companion piece to "Unforgettable" an episode that was my least favorite until they broadcast "Fury" and showed us how bad things could get. Why this story now? Don't know. I guess it's been hibernating.)
I look at the stars above Ramura and I wonder if he remembers me. Am I completely erased from his consciousness? Or perhaps I am a faceless ghost that his body conjures at night, born of tactile memories not even Ramuran technology can destroy. Or – after all, he is a resourceful man among a resourceful people - perhaps he found a way to preserve some record of our time together.
I don't know what to wish. I don't know if I wish for his happiness or my own.
Being selfless does not come naturally to me. It is the nature of Ramurans to put ourselves first, our own welfare and our own pleasure. That is one reason we live in stealth; we don't have to worry about the welfare or pleasure of others. But two and a half years later, I still think about Chakotay, and I wonder – is he safe? Is he home yet? Is he happy?
It is most un-Ramuran of me. If Curneth knew, he would really wipe my memories. I have to be careful and save my thoughts for when I am alone.
Love is not a Ramuran priority. We mate for pleasure, we marry for gain. We raise our children until they are sent to the Common School, where they are taught that family is a political concept, not an emotional one. Love is acknowledged, but it is considered part of adolescence. Eventually we outgrow it, and love becomes nothing more than a rueful memory when we talk about our wild and impetuous youth.
Chakotay taught me differently. The first time we met, he stirred something in me that I thought was simply desire. And that last night, knowing that he would forget me in a day, I decided to act upon that desire. We sipped champagne, and I began to seduce him. I slipped my arms around him and told him how much I had enjoyed working with him, and that I had come to care for him.
Then I kissed him.
I was a Tracer; my life had fewer restrictions than most of my people and I had kissed and been kissed countless times. Because I am both attractive and skilled, the kisses usually were a welcome prelude to acts of greater intimacy. But when I kissed Chakotay the first time, he sat still and unmoving. I lifted my head from his and tried to figure out what had happened. "Have I offended you?"
"No," he said. "No. But you surprised me. I didn't know you felt that way."
I smiled. This was going to be a little more challenging than I realized, but it would work out. "If you were Ramuran, you would have known. I've been sending signals all day."
"The universal translator can't do much with body language."
"Then let me be completely clear." I kissed him again, starting softly, barely touching his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, I increased the pressure until he shifted beneath me. Then I ran my tongue across his mouth. He tasted like champagne. "Do you need any more clues?" I whispered against him.
He touched my face. "Kellin, you're very beautiful and very tempting. But I don't … feel the same way you do. I don't care for you like that."
That hurt, surprisingly so, but I kept it hidden. If I was to get what I wanted, I had to be careful. "That's all right. You don't have to."
"But I do care for someone else."
I straightened. "You did not tell me you were married."
"I'm not, but- "
That was all I needed to hear. I wanted him all the more, now. No one had ever rejected me and he was not going to be the first. Placing my fingers over his lips, I cut him off. "You are not married. Are you under an oath of celibacy?"
His lips curved beneath my fingers and he shook his head.
"Then there is no obstacle. We can enjoy each other tonight." I nuzzled against his ear. "Tomorrow you will have no memory of it."
His pulse was increasing; it leapt in his neck beneath my lips. Still he made no move toward me. "I don't want to hurt her. And I don't want to use you."
This was so far outside the ethics of my people that I stared at him. "I don't understand. How can you use me if I am offering myself? And how can she be hurt if she never knows about it?"
"I'll know."
"Not tomorrow. Why isn't she here with you, instead of me?" My confidence began to return, and I ran my hand across his chest. Even through the layers of uniform, I could feel his heart. He wanted me.
He wouldn't look at me directly. "It's complicated."
"Ah." In my experience, that meant either she was unavailable - married to someone else or similarly restricted in her freedoms - or she didn't return his feelings. "You can't be together, then. But does it mean you have to be alone? Aren't you entitled to a little pleasure?"
He looked at me silently, and I could see he was engaging in some internal debate. I was astonished that eyes already so dark could get even darker. Even though I did not fully understand Humans, I sensed that I had hit a vulnerable area. I touched his face, caressing it lightly. "It's been a long time for you, hasn't it? Let me give you this night. Let me make you happy for a little while."
This time when I kissed him, he took me into his arms and kissed me back.
He took me into his bedchamber and made love to me there. I was pleased that Human anatomy was so similar to Ramuran and even more pleased by the subtle differences. The men of my world, when they reach Chakotay's age, tend toward softness in the belly and a certain slowness in awakening their sexual desire. For muscles and virility, the young men are best although they lack the experience and finesse of their elders. Chakotay was so beautiful I could scarcely believe it. I undressed him and could not keep my hands off those his shoulders, his chest, all that hardness under all that golden skin. When I slipped his pants off, I saw there would be no delay at all.
As with most first times, there were missteps and miscues. With other lovers, these moments have been awkward, sometimes even insurmountable. Chakotay and I laughed through them with a gentle, shared laughter that contained no derision or contempt, only understanding and mutual amusement at our own foibles. I had never laughed with a lover before.
He was not selfish at all. He was as interested in my satisfaction as his own, which was not a first for me, but uncommon enough. When we were both sated he lay beside me, holding me. We grinned at each other foolishly, like a couple of kids who just did it for the first time and discovered it was fun.
"She's a fool," I said finally.
"Who?"
"Whoever it is that could be with you now instead of me. She has no idea what she's missing."
He tensed beside me, and the smile faded. I knew I had made a mistake. "Why does just mentioning her make you so sad?" I asked. "If you want her that much, why don't you do something about it?"
"It's not that simple," he said, rolling away from me. "Look, I don't want to talk about that."
"I can see that." Yes, I had made a big mistake. There was only way chance to salvage the night; I wanted a repeat performance and a head-on approach was the only possibility of getting it. Running my hand over his back, I said, "It seems to me that talking about it might do you some good. From what I've seen, there aren't a lot of people on this ship you would feel comfortable with in a discussion this personal. Maybe the Captain, but-"
He flinched beneath my hand. "Oh. I see. Your Captain."
"I don't want to talk about it."
I looked at him closely. He was turned away from me, but the way he held his shoulders and neck indicated a lot of pent-up emotion. "I think you do. And who better to talk to than me? I'll be gone in the morning, and forgotten by lunchtime." I took him by the shoulders and firmly pulled him back to the bed beside me. He didn't cooperate but he didn't resist, either. "Tell me."
And he did. He told me how he loved Kathryn Janeway, had loved her for years. The words came haltingly at first, a sign of how rarely he unburdened himself to anyone, but eventually the sheer relief of talking about it made it easier. He told me how they had met, and about a place called New Earth, and about a time she almost died in a shuttle crash. He told me how he loved her, but that love was forbidden by the rules they chose to live by. His words were simple, not florid or dramatic, and yet, by the time he stopped talking I had tears in my eyes.
It was the first time I ever cried for another being's pain.
I rolled over and kissed him with all the gentleness and sorrow and tenderness in my heart at that moment. All I could think was that I wanted to comfort him, and this was the only way I knew how. And we made love again, and this time we were both crying, and this time it was more than merely pleasure. This time it was something for which I had no words.
When the morning came, I left as scheduled but my mind was troubled. For the first time in my life, I began to wonder if love was more than an adolescent phase to be outgrown. I began to wonder if the outside worlds had more to offer us than death and danger. I began to wonder if the runaways weren't right, after all.
And the more I wondered, the clearer the answer became. I wanted to love someone. And it seemed to me that maybe I did. Maybe I loved Chakotay. And since he couldn't have his Captain, there was no good reason he couldn't learn to love me.
So I went back. I turned runaway.
The Tracers were after me almost at once; I had acted so impulsively that I made no plans or preparations, and they work all the more quickly to retrieve one of their own. It was just luck that I was near Voyager when Toyak caught up to me. I blew him to the Powers – no grief there – but he almost killed me as well. Chakotay, responding to my call, came to rescue me and as soon as I saw him I knew he had no recollection of me at all.
This did not discourage me; I knew how to use that to my advantage. I told them all about our previous encounter, about Ramura, and about the Tracers. Then I told Chakotay that he and I had fallen in love. I had almost convinced myself it was the truth. I so badly wanted it to be true.
He didn't believe me at first. Although he never mentioned his Captain or his feelings for her, I knew he was thinking that he was so secure in his feelings for her that he could not possibly feel anything for me. I was careful. I was subtle. I used all the skills of persuasion and half-truth that I acquired over twenty years of Tracing.
In the end, I seduced him again. He sat in the same chair, and I sat on its arm again, and I put my arms around him and kissed him. This time he tasted of ice cream, not champagne. "You were reluctant," I told him. "You told me you had feelings for someone else. For your Captain."
He stiffened beneath my hands, but I did not let him speak. "I told you that was all right. That there was enough room in your heart for her and for me, if you would just let me in." I hadn't intended to cry, but the tears came anyway. "I asked you to let me love you, even if I had to share your love with someone else."
With a tender expression, he brushed the tears from my face. "That's not very fair to you."
"I don't care about fair. I want to be with you. I could make you happy, if you would let me. Don’t you see? If you can love me, even a little, it will free both of you." I swallowed hard, and tried to let my feelings show. "I love you." He was not a Ramuran, he could not know what it meant to me to tell him that.
He didn't say it back. He accepted my feelings gently but made no pretense of returning them. I tried to show him what I felt for him, and he was as kind and as considerate as I remembered. We went back to his bedchamber and made love. As he lay sleeping beside me, his face peaceful, I thought that I had come home.
He kissed me goodbye in the morning as he left for duty, leaving me still in bed and happier than I had been since I was a small child. Shortly after I was dressed, Captain Janeway called me and asked me to come to her ready room. Chakotay was not on the bridge when I arrived; Ensign Kim led me to the ready room.
She was sitting on a sofa by the view port and motioned for me to have a seat near her. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
The beverage was loathsome, but I could hardly say so since everyone on the ship knew it was her favorite. "No, thank you."
This was the first time that I had spent more than a few seconds alone with her, and I cautioned myself to not judge her unfairly. Although Chakotay thought that she returned his feelings, I did not. How could she and not go to him? As new as I was to the concept of love, I was certain that love could not exist in denial. I thought she must be cold or manipulative, or both, and I was prepared to dislike her for her callous disregard of my beloved.
She was not exactly pretty, but under the right conditions I imagined she would be beautiful. The conditions were not right at that moment. She looked tired, with signs of stress around her eyes, and her hairstyle was not especially flattering. From things I had heard around the ship, I knew that the last few months had been hard for her and frankly, it showed. On the other hand, I had to admire her style. As tired and stressed as she might be, she handled that interview with a regal cordiality that left no doubt as to who was in charge and who was the supplicant.
"Commanders Chakotay and Tuvok have advised me that they have no objections to your joining the crew." She smiled. "In fact, Commander Chakotay endorses the idea whole-heartedly. Do you still wish to join us?"
She was friendly and welcoming. It was likely, I decided, that she did not yet know where I had spent the night. "Yes, Captain. I do."
"Then you're welcome to do so. You should understand how things work on this ship. We run by Starfleet rules. You'll receive instruction in them, but the thing to remember is that we run by chain of command. You'll be expected to follow orders, without hesitation and exactly as directed."
She paused, and I realized she expected a comment from me. "I understand, Captain. It was much the same in the Tracer service."
"Good. I don't know what position you'll have yet. Chakotay and Tuvok are working on that now." She took a sip from her cup, and I sensed she was considering her next words. I was right. "What I am about to say, I do not say with any intent to offend you. But certain things might be different for us than on Ramura, and you need to understand."
"Go ahead. I won't be offended."
"Having a relationship with a commanding officer does not mean that you will receive any special consideration, at least with regard to your job performance. To the contrary, you probably will find that you have to work even harder to convince your colleagues that you earned your position through merit, not through favoritism. It isn't always a fair reaction, but it is all too typical."
I flushed as I realized what she was saying. Obviously, she did know where I had slept, and with whom. Still, I heard no jealousy in her voice and despite the bluntness of her words, no threat. "I assure you, Captain, I have no intention of seeking…favoritism. My relationship with Commander Chakotay has nothing to do with how well I do my job."
"Very good." Her face was still friendly enough, but her voice took on a tone that was almost harsh. I wondered what was wrong. She extended her right hand toward me, with palm to the side and thumb upward. "In that case, welcome aboard, Kellin."
I looked at her hand in puzzlement, and she chuckled. "It's called a handshake. It's a traditional gesture to seal an agreement, or to welcome a visitor. Here, hold your hand like this and I'll show you."
"Oh." I did as she told me, and she clasped my hand and moved it up and down twice. A very strange tradition. "Thank you, Captain."
The interview was clearly over, and I turned to leave. Before I reached the door, though, she said, "Kellin." I turned. She was looking at something outside the ship. "Chakotay was happier today than I've seen him in a very long time. Thank you for that."
"Uh, yes, you're welcome." It seemed an odd thing to say to me. If she cared for Chakotay she should hate me, and if she didn't then his happiness shouldn't matter to her. I left feeling puzzled and off-balance.
When I got back to my quarters, I found the broken glass. It was Curneth's trademark. Although I had derided him many times for being melodramatic, at that moment I was grateful for his posturing. It gave me a chance to formulate a plan.
Most of the time, I tell myself that what I did, I did for Chakotay's sake, to spare him and Voyager the danger of facing the Tracers time and time again. They would have fought for me valiantly, and they would have lost, possibly at great cost. In the occasional moment when I am completely honest with myself, I know that was not the case. There was no thought of sparing anyone when I stared at those shards of glass. The game was over; the best I could hope for was to cut my losses.
My plan came together quickly and with clarity, requiring no more than a few seconds. After all, I was a Tracer; I was accustomed to planning under pressure. "Curneth," I said. "I know you're here. I want to talk with you."
He appeared, holding the neurolytic emitter pointed at me. "You surprise me, Kellin. I never thought you'd run."
"You were wrong. I have a proposition for you, Curneth. One I think you will like."
His mouth curled in contempt. "Trying to buy your freedom? You know better than that."
"Not my freedom. I'll go back with you, willingly and docilely – if you let me keep my memories."
He blinked. I don't think he expected that. "You're coming back with me no matter what. Why should I risk my license?"
"Because if you let me keep my memories, I'll do more than come back with you." I looked him in the eye. "You've wanted me for years. Now's your chance."
"You'll be my lover?" he asked, not quite believing me. I had always been quite blunt in my refusals of him.
I nodded.
"You overestimate yourself. You'll be coming back a disgraced runaway without an occupation. They'll never license you as a Tracer again, and few other services will accept you. You'll need a protector, and you won't have many choices."
"You forget. I'll be a very wealthy disgraced runaway. Conly wants that wealth so much he'll overlook the disgrace – and you have to admit, he is a much more attractive as a protector. No, if you want me, the only way you'll ever get me is to let me remember this bargain."
He looked at me for several seconds. "I want a formal alliance. If anyone discovers this, I'll lose my license, too, and I'll need of some of that wealth."
Marriage to Curneth. My stomach shrunk in protest, but I nodded. "All right. It's a bargain." I almost extended my hand, but thought better of it. He wouldn't understand the irony in it.
He lowered the emitter. "Why are you doing this?"
Might as well get the rules straight at the beginning. "My reasons are my own. Understand this, Curneth: I will be your wife. I will not disgrace you. But we will never discuss this ship or why I choose to remember it. Never."
He agreed, and very calmly, I told him what was going to happen next.
We staged the scene in front of Chakotay, and Curneth aimed the emitter at me and triggered it. Chakotay did not know, could not know, that it was set for test. It had no effect on me at all. I've used it on runaways for so long that it was not difficult to simulate the effects. At least, it was not difficult in terms of knowing what to do. Doing it, convincing Chakotay that I was forgetting against my will, was the hardest thing I have ever done.
If I hadn't done that, if I had told him simply that I was leaving, he would have tried to stop me, or stop Curneth. Someone would have been hurt and in the end my memories would have been erased. I was going back to Ramura no matter what, and I wanted to keep those memories.
Chakotay tried to persuade me to stay. Perhaps he wasn't as persistent in the attempt as my ego would have liked, but he did try. And I very coolly let him believe that I didn't remember him and that there was no attraction between us. I left with Curneth, knowing that in less than a day, no one on Voyager would remember that I had been there. It was then that I understood a human expression I had heard somewhere about a broken heart.
That was two and a half years ago. Curneth and I were married almost immediately after we returned. He is not very kind, and rarely considerate, but he maintains me in an acceptable level of comfort. Bringing me in was a boost for his career – it is notoriously difficult to recover runaway Tracers alive. He's a Senior Tracer now, gone for at least three months out of every four. I have a young lover with a wonderful body to help me bear up under the loneliness of his absences.
I also have a daughter. She is just over a year old now, and thanks be to the Powers, looks like me, not Curneth. Her name is Chaka. It is an old-fashioned name not currently in fashion on Ramura, and Curneth has no idea why I chose it. I play with her during the days and tell her stories of a magnificent ship and the beautiful maid who fell in love with the ship's first mate. Soon, though, when she is old enough to understand, I will stop. It would be a disservice to teach a Ramuran girl that love is anything but an adolescent fancy.
There are nights when I am alone after she is asleep, and I walk out to the balcony of our apartment and look skyward. Voyager is long past the reach of Ramura, so there is no way to get news of it even if I dared. All that is left is for me to wonder. Often times I think about that interview with Captain Janeway. Was I wrong about her? Did she love him after all? I have come to realize that love can be strong enough to survive distance and separation; perhaps it is strong enough to withstand rules and regulations. Did she ever go to him?
But as long as I live, no matter what happens to me, my thoughts will always turn to Chakotay. Is he home yet? Is he happy? Does he ever think of me?
I wonder, but I don't know what to wish.