#CHAKOTAY YOU SHOULD HAVE LET YOUR HAIR GRAY

[bumblingbabooshka]

Janeways have a type

[summahsunlight]

This Way Became My Journey, CH. 13

Chapters 1-10 / Chapter 11/ Chapter 12

A hot bath and a cup of tea was all Sarah Barrett really wanted when she stumbled into her quarters for her break. They had been traveling at warp speed for the past hour or so to get to Illidaria to ask for help in getting the trapped ship out of the event horizon and Sarah had spent just as long brushing up the rest of the crew on first contact protocols. It had taken a little longer than she was hoping, since the Maquis had no first contact policy and she had to start from scratch when it came to them. By now her feet were killing her and she had walked the equivalent of several miles on board the ship going from department to department.

Thankfully Chakotay's idea of routing power from deck seven had provided some power to the replicators in the mess hall so Sarah had been able to replicate a cup of red tea, with lemon, on her way back to her quarters. She sat in the living room, sipping it, while she waited for the bath to finish filling up. Pulling off the tunic of her uniform she decided to change into something more comfortable. She had one hour before she had to get back in uniform and man her office, there were several rookie space travelers that had requested to speak to her and she had somehow managed to cram them in; however she was going to make the most of this time off.

After slipping into a pair of navy blue cotton lounge pants and a spaghetti strap gray tank top she proceeded into the bathroom to check the water. The tub was almost full. Leaning over she turned the water off as the door chime rang out. Grunting, she pulled herself up. What now?

"Come in," she called, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. She wasn't surprised when Tom Paris sauntered into the room, carrying a bottle of champagne and what appeared to be a picnic basket. "What do you want, Tom?"

"I thought we'd celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Sarah asked, bewildered.

"In case you didn't realize, it was one week ago that we were pulled from the Badlands into the Delta Quadrant, and there's no better way to celebrate than a lunch of champagne and emergency rations," Tom pointed out, pulling out two tumblers from the basket and placing them down onto the dining table. He popped the cork and the champagne fizzled a little before he poured each of them a generous portion.

"That's something to celebrate? Being stranded seventy five thousand light years from home?"

Tom laughed. "Come on Sarah, you know me better than that. We're celebrating surviving our first week out here." He handed her a glass of the bubbly alcohol and clanged his glass to hers. "Drink up; we've only got about three thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine more weeks to go."

She watched as he took a sip of the champagne. "You have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?" But, she reasoned, a glass of champagne would certainly help her unwind a little after the horrendous morning and afternoon that she had just had. She figured Tom's probably wasn't much better. Finally she took a sip out of her own glass and immediately felt her senses tingle. This was a clear violation of the terms that Starfleet insisted that she agree upon if she wanted to go back to work; hell it was a clear violation of Starfleet protocol period, no drinking on duty. But if they were discrete, no one would have any idea they had shared a drink together during lunch.

Tom plopped his tired body down onto her sofa and spread his arms out along the back, the glass resting between his fingers. "You know, I've always loved how the bubbles tingle my nose."

Sarah was shocked how he could toss aside all that was going on around them and just focus on the moment. How often had she wished in the past that she had that ability? She stood there in the middle of the room, her feet bare, hair curling over her shoulders, staring at him. Was this for real? Or was the champagne a facade so he could see her because there was a deeper problem at hand?

"What?" he asked, noticing her stare. "Do I have something up my nose?"

She blinked, snapping out of her trance. "Why are you here?"

"I already answered that question; to celebrate surviving our first week," Tom replied, restlessly.

"No, why are you really here?"

He let out a dejected breath. "I should have known you'd see right through me."

"The champagne may have been a little too much of a give away," Sarah tried to joke, but noticed that it was coming off all wrong. He frowned at her and she saw the anguish flash through his blue eyes. She didn't even think Tom Paris was capable of such an emotion and it immediately thrust her into counselor mode. "Tom, what's going on? You seem…upset."

Leaning forward, Tom's eyes met hers. "Do you ever feel that we've been set up to fail?"

"You mean Captain Janeway's decision to strand us here?" Sarah drawled, trying to understand where he was coming from. "She did what she thought was right. If we hadn't destroyed the array what would have happened to the Ocampa?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes, Sarah, I feel like we did what was right, that their needs out weighed ours, however, other times I feel that being back in New Zealand would be better than facing uncharted space. If this was solely a Starfleet crew I wouldn't be worried, however, we're talking about integrating enemies of the Federation into this crew, our chances of survival aren't good. We just as well will kill each other before we work together. Janeway had to have known that when she pulled the trigger, right?"

"To be honest Tom, I'm not sure what she was thinking when she made the decision," Sarah answered, sitting with him on the couch. "It wasn't like we all had time to discuss it." She tucked her feet underneath her legs and drew them closer to her. "I guess, we just have to have a little faith, after all, it seems that Captain Janeway has some faith in all of us." She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll get through it Tom, we'll make it home."

A sad smile stretched across his face. "You know something when I hear you say it, and hear Janeway say it, I believe it."

"Counselor Barrett, report to the Bridge."

Tom saw Sarah's eyes close and a dark look come over her face. The calm demeanor which she had regarded him in just mere seconds ago was gone, replaced with a worried and stressed look.

"We must be coming up on Illidaria," she murmured. Getting up she downed the rest of her champagne in a chug that impressed Tom, who was known for his chugging during his Academy days, and strode into the bathroom. He heard water draining from the tub and a few moments later she appeared from the room, clad now in her uniform, hair roughly tossed back and boots in her hands.

So much for the bath, Sarah thought as she put her boots on. She tapped her combadge. "Barrett to bridge, I'm on my way."

"The Captain would like to see you," Lieutenant Commander Tuvok instructed her when she stepped out of the turbolift. Sarah grimly nodded her head and proceeded to the ready room door, tapping the chime.

Janeway admitted her a few seconds later and she stepped into see an obvious flustered captain. "Is everything alright, ma'am?" The room was, putting it bluntly, a disaster. The product of having two children spend the whole day cooped up in there. Several toys littered the upper level, one of Ava's bottles had tipped over onto the coffee table and had leaked out, and Michael had made an elaborate block city that weaved around the entire area. Right now, both children were snuggled up, sleeping on the sofa taking what was probably a much needed nap.

"Oh, everything is just wonderful, Lieutenant," the older woman drawled, answering her question, her blue eyes staring intently at the younger woman. "I've got a trapped ship I cannot help without making first contact with a species we know nothing about, second, my children are running rampant all over this ship, third, I don't know who to put in charge down in Engineering. Do you know I tried to do as Chakotay suggested and get to know B'Elanna? She just stormed out of here, right before you came in. I was hoping that you would have made it here before she left. Tell me, Sarah, what am I doing wrong? I've tried to be accommodating, I've tried being welcoming to the Maquis, nothing is working."

"Captain, I don't think there is much more you can do…for the Maquis that is," Sarah responded quickly. "I've tried to get to know B'Elanna as well, all I meet is aversion. Of course to her, I'm nothing but a Starfleet brat."

Janeway had heard that term often enough as well growing up, since her father had been Starfleet. Perhaps that was the problem with many of the Maquis, they believed that she had not earned her way to this position, thus did not have the authority to dictate their lives. So what did that mean, that she get on the comline and tell her life story?

"Sickbay to Captain Janeway," the Doctor's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes Doctor?"

"May I request that you activate your emergency medical holographic channel?"

Sarah watched as Janeway moved to sit behind her desk and activate her personal computer. Harry must have fixed it quickly, she thought with mild amusement, recalling how the Captain had burst forth from the ready room to get a status report that morning with the broken terminal in her hand, placed it in Harry's lap and told him to see if he could fix it. When he asked what had happened to it, her answer had been, a one year old.

Janeway was gazing at the newly fixed screen with a funny look and briefly Sarah wondered if Harry hadn't fixed it. "Doctor, I'm getting a distorted image. Mister Kim obviously didn't fix my computer thoroughly."

"No captain," the Doctor's voice came over the computer. "You're computer is working properly. This is how I currently appear. I'm…shrinking."

"Shrinking?" Janeway repeated, eyebrows arching in fascination. She propped her chin in her elbow to hide the smile that was no doubt making its way across her face.

The Doctor saw her amusement and scowled, telling how much he was shrinking by. "I've informed Mister Kim; apparently, he has more pressing matters to tend too, for example fixing your computer. However, my…personal problem, is not what I'm calling you about. Several crew members have reported severe headaches, muscles spasms, and sudden waves of dizziness. I've treated them of course."

Let's just add this to the list of things I have to deal with, Janeway thought bitterly. "This could be related to the quantum singularity we encountered a few hours ago," she told him, and immediately saw his face cloud over with disgust. Oh dear, no one informed him.

"Quantum singularity?" the Doctor repeated, in a harsh tone.

"It was sending out strong spatial distortions it might have affected the crew. And your systems as well," Janeway mused.

"You know Captain, if we were in the vicinity of a quantum singularity, I should have been informed."

She gave him an apologetic smile, realizing that since he was their only doctor at the moment, and seeing how he did not have the freedom to come to bridge, there had to be a way set up for him to get information on what was going on, other than by word of mouth. "You're absolutely right. I'll look at linking your program into the ship's database." Suddenly the ship jolted and Janeway was tossed about in her chair.

Stumbling to her feet both Janeway and Sarah left the ready room, neither of them realizing that the Captain had failed to terminate her link with the Doctor, who was calling after Janeway, "Hello? Captain?"

"Report," Janeway ordered, stepping up into the command station.

"It looks like we're running into more spatial distortions," Chakotay answered her, turning to face her.

"I'm reading a highly localized disturbance off the port bow," Harry Kim said.

"On screen," Janeway said, facing the view screen. An image of another event horizon appeared, very similar to the one they had left behind to go to Illidaria to get help. "Mister Tuvok?"

Tuvok ran his fingers over his console, gathering readings. "It is another type four quantum singularity. The physical and temporal dimensions are identical to the one we encountered earlier."

A beep came from Tom's instruments and the young pilot, who had taken his station after Sarah left her quarters, glanced over his shoulder at Janeway. "Captain, according to these coordinates, we've returned to our previous position. This isn't another singularity, it's the same one."

B'Elanna Torres didn't know why, but she was nervous sitting in the staff meeting that had been called to discuss why they were going around in circles and ending back at the same singularity. Joe Carey, who had been called to the meeting as well, looked smug and not the least bit fazed. There were rumors running rampant that this meeting was the one where Janeway was going to make her decision about chief engineer. B'Elanna figured she had ruined any chances of getting the position when she had stormed out of Janeway's office not even an hour ago. But she would be lying if she didn't want the job, for some reason she wanted to prove to Janeway that she was not going to fail, even if the woman was trying to set her up just to do that. However, at the same time, she knew that she wasn't officer material.

In fact, she was so lost in thought that she wasn't aware the holographic doctor had been speaking over the view screen in the briefing room until he was done. He glumly reported that he was still shrinking and cut the connection.

Janeway was leaning forward on her elbows. Chakotay was seated to her right, Sarah Barrett to her left, followed by Tuvok, Harry Kim, Joe Carey, herself, and Tom Paris. What a motley crew, B'Elanna mused, looking about the table as Janeway began to speak to them.

"I've finished my study of the spatial distortion coming from the singularity," the Captain began. "I can give you a long, boring analysis. All I can say is, I don't know what is going on. The readings are confused, the data contradictory, none of it is making any sense. Anyone have anything more constructive?" she asked the group hopefully.

"Ship wide diagnostics have revealed nothing out of the ordinary," Tuvok reported.

"I tried sending out a tachyon signal to scan the singularity, but all I got back was static," Carey said.

B'Elanna was still lost in thought and only brought out of it when Chakotay asked her if she could work with Carey to clean up the signal. "Yes," she replied, eyes flicking to Janeway. "But it won't work. I mean it was a good idea to try, but it won't work."

"You have another idea?" the Captain asked her.

"I was just thinking about the Doctor's problem with the holographic projectors," B'Elanna responded, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on the table. "It seems like the spatial distortions might be interfering with the projector's phase alignment."

Janeway looked intrigued. "That was my guess too."

"If that's the case," B'Elanna continued, "I might be able to screen out those distortions by setting up a localized dampening field around the projectors."

"Is our priority here really the medical holographic system?" Carey questioned, feeling like he was being out matched.

"My point is," B'Elanna said, " that if the spatial distortions are also interfering with the transmission we received from the other ship -," she didn't get the chance to continue, the Captain finished for her, following her path, stating that they could set up a similar system around their external sensors and communicate with them. "Exactly," the Klingon replied, "And they may know more than we do about what's going on."

"Let's give it a try," Janeway said enthusiastically. "Dismissed."

The group of officers got up from the table, with the exception of Janeway and all filed out of the room back onto the bridge. Chakotay turned around at the door to look at her, asking her a silent question. A small smile spread on her face and she gave him a gentle nod of the head. He returned the soft smile, before following the others out onto the bridge. Janeway leaned back in her chair, let out a calming breath and stood up, slowly making her way after her officers. She found them all hard at work, just like she knew they would be.

"The emitters are online," B'Elanna reported, with Janeway now standing over her shoulder, arms over her chest. "I'm rerouting the dampening field through the deflector grid."

Janeway moved towards operations. "Open a channel to the other ship." Immediately the bridge was filled with a garbled message, just like the one they had heard about hours ago it felt like now. B'Elanna announced that she was ramping up the field intensity.

"It's working," Kim said. "We're cutting through the distortions." The message still sounded garbled however. Janeway ordered him to remodulate the EM band to try to clean it up. "Compensating for amplitude distortion," he told her as he typed away at his console. A few moments later a clear transmission filled the bridge and it shocked them all. It was the Captain's hail from hours before when they had first come across the singularity.

"That's your hail," Chakotay told her, even though she didn't need to be told.

"I'm applying our dampening field to our visual scanners to see if I can clear up the image," B'Elanna said. When she did it, it was another shock to the bridge crew, because the ship they were trying to rescue all along was Voyager. All this time they had been trying to save themselves. Suddenly it hit B'Elanna and Janeway as well, they were the ones trapped in the singularity all along, there had never been another ship.

"Red alert," Janeway ordered, the lights dimming and an alarm blaring a few warnings.

"Sensors confirm it's definitely U.S.S Voyager," Tom reported, peeking at his console between staring at the screen.

"I've been hailing the ship on all frequencies," Tuvok said, "But I've gotten no response."

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "I don't think you'll get a response, Commander," she told him, patiently. "That message we unscrambled is the same message I sent out hours ago."

"Could we have traveled back in time and met ourselves?" Kim asked.

"No," B'Elanna said firmly, "that's not it." She moved towards Janeway across the back of the bridge and went to stand face to face with her. "I think I have an explanation." For a moment their eyes met and then Janeway nodded towards the briefing room again, asking that the senior officers move in there.

B'Elanna moved with the others into the briefing room that they had occupied a mere five minutes before, but didn't bother taking a seat like the rest of them. She was too nervous that Janeway was going to think she was crazy. Instead, she nervously paced around the table giving her explanation as to what was going on. "Think of it like this," she started, "you're sitting at the bottom of a pond, which is frozen over, and you look up at the surface and see a reflection of yourself. Now, you might think you're looking at another person, sitting at the bottom of another pond, looking back at you."

To her surprise, Janeway was buying it. "And in this case, we'd be staring up at the surface of the event horizon and seeing a time delayed reflection of ourselves."

"Are you saying we're the ones trapped in the singularity?" Chakotay asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," B'Elanna replied.

"You're right," Janeway agreed, "it's the only theory that explains everything that's happened to us. We've probably been in this singularity since we felt the first jolt."

Paris was confused. "Wait a minute," he interjected. "Let me get this straight. We were cruising along at warp seven, and then picked up a distress call. So we moved into investigate, but now you're saying that the other ship is just a reflection of us, and that the distress call is just the captain's opening hail. But we picked up the distress call before she sent the hail. How could we have been seeing a reflection of something we hadn't even done yet?" He looked around the table to see that everyone was staring at him, and that Janeway had a smirk on her face. "Am I making any sense here?"

"No," Janeway replied, "but that's okay. One of the more difficult concepts to grasp in temporal mechanics is sometimes effect can precede cause. A reaction can be observed before an action that initiated it."

"So how do we get out?" Kim asked.

"I'm not sure," B'Elanna replied, intensely. "But, I do know one thing. That as we slide deeper into the singularity, the spatial distortions are increasing. If that's the case, then we might not have a lot of time before they crush the ship."

Janeway got up from the table and moved around it to stand next to her. "If your analogy is correct, how do we get through that sheet of ice?"

"Look for a crack!"

"Or make a crack," Janeway said in response to B'Elanna. "Take something and slam into the ice until it buckles."

"Wait a minute," B'Elanna said. "What if we already made a crack in the ice?"

"When we first entered the event horizon," Janeway mused along with her.

"If we can find our entry point we might be able to slip out the way we came in," B'Elanna replied.

"So we would be looking for a subspace instability in the event horizon," Janeway speculated. "What would make it show up on our sensors?"

Silence passed between them for a couple of seconds and then they both said at the same time, "Warp particles!"

"If we saturate the event horizon with warp particles we might be able to see them escaping through the rupture we made when we entered!" Janeway exclaimed turning about on her heel and leaving the room. The rest of the officers, most of them stunned by what had just taken place, followed suit.

B'Elanna heard Paris remark to Barrett, "What the hell just happened?" Out of the corner of her eye, B'Elanna could see a small smile creep across the counselor's pretty face as she turned to reply to the hotshot pilot, "I think B'Elanna Torres just got promoted to chief engineer."

She felt satisfaction in hearing that. But she didn't know how much truth was behind the words that Barrett had just said. After all, B'Elanna may have found a way out of the event horizon for them, but that didn't mean Janeway was seriously going to take her on as chief engineer. She still wasn't sure how she felt about the whole thing herself. Was she capable of leading? I guess there's only one way to find out, she thought to herself as she went to stand in the command station with Janeway and Chakotay, while Tuvok took the main deflector off line. Kim was rerouting the power of the plasma flow to the main deflector so they could use it to generate a warp field.

B'Elanna stood rigidly next to Chakotay, realizing that if this didn't work, she was fresh out of ideas on how to get them out of the event horizon and Voyager would be crushed. Well I gave us a week to survive out here, but I didn't think we'd be crushed to death by a quantum singularity.

"Release the warp particles," Janeway ordered. A steady stream of particles emitted from the deflector dish and into the even horizon, filling the bridge with a bright orange glow. Paris immediately began to scan the singularity for an changes. But B'Elanna was anxious.

"Anything?" she rasped out, harshly.

"Not yet," Kim reported, coolly. "Warp particles at full intensity."

"I'm picking up something," Paris announced, fingers running across the conn. "It could be a rupture in the event horizon."

B'Elanna exchanged a relieved glance with the Captain before she ordered to have it put on screen. Sure enough, there was rupture. Now if only its big enough for the ship to get through, B'Elanna thought hopefully. But Paris was already delivering the bad news that it was too small. She felt anger taking a hold of her. "It must have collapsed since we first past through it."

"We found the crack," Janeway said, trying to calm her. "That's the important thing. Let's focus on how we can make it bigger."

"Put a wedge in it and force it open," B'Elanna retorted still feeling angry. "We could try a dekyon beam."

Janeway nodded her head and ordered Paris to move them closer to the rupture, but he turned in his seat and looked at her pensively. "Captain, if we get too close to the rupture our warp engines might make it collapse even further."

Damn it, B'Elanna thought as the Captain asked if they could emit the beam from their current position. Kim told her that they didn't have enough power to emit one from this distance. Another damn.

"Alright, we'll take a shuttlecraft," Janeway said, placing her hands on her hips.

It didn't surprise B'Elanna that Tom Paris was standing up, offering himself up to pilot the shuttle. It did surprise her though that Janeway was putting him down. He had made a valuable point, that she needed her best pilot and that was him. But hers was maybe a little bit more valuable; she needed someone with her that understood temporal mechanics. Once that was out, B'Elanna suddenly realized, Kahless, she means me!

Sure enough Janeway told B'Elanna that she was going to accompany her, and with a final order of leaving Chakotay in charge, the two women left the bridge, en route to the shuttlebay.

[devoverest]

Prompt: Maybe a little JC with slay 40 and smoch 38?

Slay #40: We died trying, you and I.Smooch #38: [A kiss]…because they’re running out of time.

Smooch, Screw, or Slay?

Title: High Water 

Summary: She needs him like she needs air. He needs not to outlive her. 

(read on AO3)  TW: Major character death(s); drowning

“When I was your captain, I always thought I’d lose you on some away mission and have to go on,” she mused, shivering in his arms. “Dying together never occurred to me.” 

“I still intend to die first, Kathryn.” He sounded grim. Well, no wonder, she thought.  

She raised an eyebrow. “That may be hard to manage.” The water still rose steadily in the windowless cell, rib-cage deep, on her at least. “You’re taller.” 

His humorless smile reassured her not at all.

The earthquake – if that’s what it had been – had jolted them out of bed, five days into a deeply inconvenient but otherwise unremarkable confinement. They had been sent to the planet to explore its government’s future with the Federation. While their detention was an outrageous and disqualifying breach of terms, they had not been mistreated and so had made a studied decision to wait it out, counting on eventual release negotiated by Starfleet or, if necessary, rescue. This newly warp-capable society offered no military or technological obstacles to the latter. 

Kathryn had been sleeping in Chakotay’s arms. She’d woken to a violent jerk, his pained grunt as she landed on top of him, and then the sound of distant rumbling. The quake had gone on for half a minute, perhaps, the longest half minute she’d ever endured, fully aware that most of a mountain loomed above them. 

They’d heard nothing through the heavy door of their cell, no running feet or shouts, and the power had stayed on – the light encased in the ceiling never went out, an annoyance at night but a deeply reassuring sign now. They’d been unhurt and saw no evidence of damage within their cell. They’d returned to the bed and, eventually, to sleep. 

They’d not seen their captors since.

Once the water seeping in through the air vent became calf-deep, she’d ceased worrying about lack of food and started worrying about hypothermia.

They’d stacked their two cots for more elevation and tried to sleep between the two thin mattresses for warmth. They’d been woken by the damp chill and squish of water wicked upward through the bedding.

They’d renewed their efforts to break out of the cell. The door handle and hinges were on the outside, and the door fit so snugly in its frame that Kathryn couldn’t fit more than a fingernail into any crevice. It was watertight, or as good as; they’d observed no current in the door’s direction.

They’d established on their first day of captivity that the air vents were too small for Kathryn to squeeze into. Chakotay nonetheless now shattered an elbow trying to bash open the metal grates. If they could get a hand, maybe a head into one vent, perhaps they could somehow signal for help, or block the flow of water, though they had nothing in the cell that could seal off the space, and though doing so would also cut off their air supply.

Then the water had risen above the vents, and had continued rising, and now it seemed the only question was whether they would asphyxiate or drown first.

She probed further into his plan, teasing him about wanting an early check-out, until, squeezing her hand but not meeting her eyes, he confessed he was screwing up his courage to drown himself.

“You’ll have more oxygen. More time to be rescued.” Then, “I should have already done it. Forgive me.”

She let anger burn away the vision of herself alone in this hellhole with his floating corpse.

“Drowning people reflexively seek air. You wouldn’t be able to suppress the instinct to break the surface and breathe.” She spoke drily, lightly. “And if you did somehow manage to lose consciousness, you wouldn’t be able to stop me resuscitating you.” She knew she now sounded pissed. “And just think of the oxygen all that thrashing around would waste.”

His face as she spoke: defeat, relief, desperation. Then, as he finally looked at her, fierce and joyful love.

They were shoulder to shoulder, perched on the stacked cots, water to their waists, over Kathryn’s head if she stood on the floor now. Her hair had come loose in their last battle with the door and vent grates. They were both shaking with cold.

“Your lips are blue,” he choked out, and then kissed them, his own flesh stiff and chill, the water’s dank stench in her nostrils. His breath and tears were hot on her face.

After a long time she broke the kiss.

“Come on,” she said. “There’s one more thing we can try.”

With his one good arm and her hands and legs they forced apart one cot’s metal frame. She held a rod in each hand as he stood on the remaining bed, stance wide for balance, and lifted her. Neither of them remarked on how the pain in his arm made him sway, gray with nausea.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “Keep talking to me. Please.”

What was left to say between them? How glad she was that they’d finally reached Earth and married? How furious she was that they’d had only months together in the end? How heartsick she was at having dragged him along into her new diplomatic career and this premature watery grave?

He knew. He’d always known what lay silent in her heart.

She spoke. “If I can just break through the light cover … it’s translucent, it should be more fragile than the stone and metal of the rest of the cell. If that light is powered by electricity, that means there’s … some sort of conduit from this fixture above the ceiling. There may be an open space, some way to … escape, or at least get air …”

She was pounding against the light cover, with all the strength and leverage she could muster, hearing him grunt with every impact as her weight shifted against him and he struggled in the deep water to balance both of them.

She would not voice her fear that if she did break through she would electrocute them both. She would not break his concentration by asking him how much longer he could hold on. She would not stop trying; she would go down fighting to free them …

She would not say goodbye.

He toppled, not with a splash but with a sideways drift, submerging them both. She dropped the metal rods, twisted in his slackening arms to grasp him around the chest, found the floor under her feet, and thrust them both upward. Scrambled, kicking, to reach the elevation of the cot. Stood upon it, now on tip toes to get her own face above the surface, his head rolling back limply against her shoulder. Her muscles straining, her vision tunneling as she panted bad air.

The water rose that little bit higher, and she was treading water, Chakotay barely conscious, unable to respond to her command to kick, to find his feet and stand.

She weakened. His weight pulled them both under, and she knew she could not drag him onto the cot again, could not bring both their faces above the waterline.

She’d been wrong, it turned out. Her body’s instinctive need to seek air did not overcome her determination to hold on to Chakotay, to hold onto him, come hell or high water. She held on. She held on. She held on.