The JetC3 challenge was to write a story where an unusual rainstorm had an
unusual effect on Janeway and Chakotay. What follows isn't exactly what Jackee
asked for, but then I've never been good at following precise directions for
creative writing classes, either. I have always wanted to write something
explaining how Janeway and Chakotay could have gotten themselves into one of the
stupidest situations for a couple of command-level officers. This doesn't get
them there, but it does get them to the start of one of my favorite episodes.

Paramount owns the premise but not the setup. Comments to emwycedee@writeme.com.

When your lips are burning mine
And you take the time to tell me how you feel
When you listen to my words
And I know you've heard, I know it's real
Rain is what the thunder brings
For the first time I can hear my heart singing
Call me a fool but I know I'm not
I'm going to stand out here on the mountaintop
Till I feel your rain
Feel it on my fingertips, hear it on my windowpane
Your love's coming down like rain
Wash away my sorrow, take away my pain
Your love's coming down like rain.

--Madonna, "Rain"

RAIN
by YCD

When she failed to report in after the third summons, he beamed down to look for
her, over Tuvok's objections. There were no evident threats on the planet, after
all--no animal life larger than monkeys, no rock slides, no rare gaseous
elements, no airborne infectious agents which registered on the tricorder.

They had stopped to replenish mineral supplies and to scout for food sources.
Some of the tubers seemed promising, and the soil was rich, full of nutrients and
trace elements. The captain had discovered evidence of a burrowing insect in the
ground, though, and wanted to check it out before beaming soil samples from the
surface to the ship. According to Kes, Janeway had wandered into the woods with
old-fashioned hand tools and a tricorder, bent on finding the pests, if such
really existed.

And then nothing. No report at check-in time, no answer when they tried to
contact her. Neither of the away teams managed to find her on foot before a
fierce thunderstorm disrupted their search.

"It is unwise for both senior officers to be absent from the ship in a situation
with so many unknowns," Tuvok had warned Chakotay when the latter announced that
he would beam down personally to look for her.

"Noted. I'm going down there anyway. You have the bridge," Chakotay had snapped,
assuming that either himself or the captain would remedy that situation in a
matter of hours.

It was still pouring when he arrived on the surface. Though it was the middle of
the afternoon on the M-class planet, the sky was dark with clouds. He detected
vague signs of primate life in the woods, but the electrical activity in the
atmosphere made them difficult to pinpoint--just as it had been from the ship.
That also might have explained why her comm badge was apparently not working.

The rain smelled good. It was warm on the surface, and the fertile world had a
lush, verdant aroma which reminded him very much of Earth - the forests of North
America, specifically, where both his ancestors and hers had walked for centuries
before their own era. Even with the uniform on, water squelching in his boots and
dripping in his eyes, he was almost enjoying himself. Or would have been, had he
not been so worried about her.

Kathryn. He could call her that, in the privacy of this thoughts, even if she
never gave him permission to speak her name aloud. It might be dangerous if she
did - he wasn't at all certain that he would be able to separate it from the
other words he associated with it in his mind, words he knew he would never be
able to say to the captain of Voyager.

The readings of life signs got stronger as the electrical storm abated, but the
rain didn't let up; if anything, it seemed to be getting harder, pelting him in
the face like a series of tiny slaps in punishment for the course his thoughts
had taken while his captain was lost in who knew what kind of trouble. Mentally
he made a note to berate her for wandering out of sight of the away team, for
failing to take a backup when she went off to do research. What could be so
dangerous about a burrowing insect that they couldn't investigate on the ship,
anyway?

There--a flash of something among the trees up ahead. Definitely a primate of
some sort--no, not human. Still, perhaps Kathryn had followed similar readings.
He moved in the direction of the readings, focused on the concentration of animal
life high in the wet treetops, and almost stumbled over the body which blocked
his path.

Kathryn. She was lying in the mud, unconscious, her fingers wrapped loosely
around a live specimen container. He saw no immediately recognizable injuries,
and she was breathing, though her skin felt hot through the clammy wetness of her
uniform, and when he pulled back her eyelids, her eyes were dilated and rolled
back. Panic gave way to relief at having found her alive. Whatever had happened,
the Doctor would take care of it soon enough.

"Chakotay to Voyager," he barked into his comm badge, but there was no reply.
Obviously, the storm was still having an effect on their ability to communicate.
He lifted the captain, noting as he did so a strange mark like a snakebite on the
inside of her right wrist. The container had been sealed by her, so he took it
along clipped to his utility belt. He carried her past the circle of trees toward
the open space near the mountains where the landing party had congregated.

The rain had become his enemy; it was making the ground slippery, and hard for
him to gauge distance. Fortunately, it seemed finally to be letting up, though it
was colder now, stinging faintly where it fell on his skin. He held Kathryn
closer, fighting his way past fallen branches and around rocks, until he emerged
in an open clearing.

"Chakotay to Voyager," he tried again. A burst of static, and then, "Tuvok here."
Chakotay started to order him to beam the captain and himself directly to
Sickbay, when he remembered the canister with the specimen which the captain had
been holding. He started to put it down, then wondered whether it might contain a
clue to her condition. Had she eaten some native root or berry, or inhaled
something dangerous from the soil? Setting her down gently in the soaked grass,
he flipped out his tricorder and cautiously opened the tube.

Dirt. Mud, really, that was all it contained--the evidence, he supposed, in
Kathryn's apparently fruitless attempt to track down the bugs in the soil. His
tricorder wasn't reading any burrowing insects.

As he started to put the lid back onto the container, he felt a sudden pang in
his palm--almost like an insect bite. When he looked, though, he saw nothing out
of the ordinary. Probably just an itch. After a moment the discomfort subsided,
and he started to feel good again. It had almost stopped raining, he was no
longer chilled and the damp didn't bother him. Kathryn was slumped against him,
her breathing strong and steady, warm body luring him to rest with her for a
moment.

The container dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers. Yes, he would relax
for just a moment, and close his eyes against the rain. Tuvok knew where they
were, after all, it wasn't like anything bad could happen to them on a planet
that looked so much like Earth. His head hung heavily in the moist air, which
seemed to cling to his face like a shroud.

When they got back to the ship, he was going to have to program the holodeck for
a rainstorm like this one had been, and go running in it. He was going to have to
have that talk with the captain, too, about not taking unnecessary risks. That
wasn't the talk he really wanted to have with her, but there would be another
time for that, perhaps, and for the tempest that his words might cause.

"Tuvok to Chakotay," his comm badge whistled, but he couldn't respond, his head
was too heavy to lift from all the rain. Vaguely he was aware of the sound being
repeated, but he couldn't see through the mist, and couldn't feel anything other
than the warmth seeping through his body, like Kathryn's, heat radiating up from
his hand which rested against her, the sting faded. Like joy, washing away the
past on this planet--New Earth, he would call it in his personal log. The thought
brought a smile to his lips as his consciousness faded in the rain.