A Harry Kim Log
Sixty three days. It's been sixty three days since I made my last recording in my log. It was short--perhaps too short--all I had said, been able to say then was 'We lost the Captain today.'
It's been a miserable two months. The initial shock and disbelief becoming anger then grief. Life goes on, must go on, especially on a starship lost in the middle of nowhere. We have no choice, but it is painful. We do our jobs, only we are quieter, the jokes are fewer, and on the bridge the mood is somber. The bridge crew feel her loss greatly--we worked with her everyday. In our own way, we had grown to love her too. Tom, in another time, would make some comment about that statement, but I include him in the we too. Perhaps more than he would care to admit. I'm not talking about romantic, passionate love like that shared between her and the commander. Ours is hard to define, even Tuvok behind that Vulcan stoicism felt something.
She was special to me too. I had been fresh out of the academy when I was assigned to Voyager. When we were dragged into the delta-quadrant, she appointed me--a green ensign--to her senior staff. I had heard horror stories throughout my academy days of senior officers who listened to ideas of their subordinates and then stole them or ridiculed their subordinates publicly. I, and everybody else on this ship, were able to make suggestions and not be laughed out of existence no matter how ridiculous. We also received credit if they were good. She was a remarkable person, leader..friend.
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There is no easy way to say this. Four months after leaving the Captain, presumed dead, a Talaxian vessel overtook us today and notified us they were returning her. Thank-god, that four weeks ago we had spent a little over a week on Nielat gathering supplies--or the Talaxians might not have ever caught up with us. We didn't know how fortunate, until a very shaken B'Elanna walked onto the bridge and whispered something into Tom's ear. He was in command of the bridge at the time. Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Tuvok were in the transporter room waiting to receive the body. Tom went white and looked at B'Elanna in absolute shock and surprise. She nodded, and I thought she was going to start crying. The rest of us just stood there, knowing something had happened--but we had no idea what. Until Tom managed to say, "She's alive." It took several seconds or longer for the meaning to sink in.
It took less time for the word to spread throughout the ship.
Do you know the fear of waking up in a strange place and finding yourself all alone. No one answers your pleas, the desperation of not knowing what is going on, where anybody is. The feeling of loss of sanity after having no one to speak to for weeks, months.
Four months ago, I decided to visit the surface of the planet, Casis 4. We had already decided to offer shore leave there to the crew. The opportunities for me to do research are few, and I decided that I would take some soil samples. We were looking for fertile soil because not everything was growing well in the hydroponics garden.
Ensign Parsons, a young biologist, and I packed a shuttle with the equipment we would need and flew to the planet's surface. Only something went wrong. The shuttle started to break apart soon after we entered the planet's atmosphere. In desperation, I beamed both of us to the planet's surface. The shuttle must have broken up immediately afterwards--it is the only reason I could come up with when I never found Parsons--the destruction of the shuttle must have caused his transporter signal to break up. I tried contacting Voyager, but a massive plasma storm moved in, and I had to find shelter. I selected a nearby cave.
For days the plasma storm showed no signs of breaking. I managed to find enough food near the cave to survive, I even managed to start a fire. I remember the memory that floated through my mind as I did--of him looking at me on Hanon, just before he asked for a lock of hair to start a fire (I also remember thinking at that moment 'what kind of fire was he intending to start'). I hadn't needed to use my hair, I had a phaser. And a tricorder.
The days turned into weeks, and I had to realize that Voyager, that Chakotay, must think I was dead. The storm was still raging, but there were breaks that I took advantage of. I would gather food, water, supplies, and I would try to contact Voyager. I don't remember exactly when I realized they had left me, but at that moment I almost gave up. I stopped scratching the passage of time on the rock wall. Something inside me kept me going however. I started to set food aside, not having any idea of what kind of seasonal changes to expect. I also made improvements to the cave. I managed to construct a door of sorts, and I used the phaser to put a chimney in the ceiling. I salvaged items from an abandoned settlement that wasn't too far away. I found a couple of pots, a chair, and other items to *furnish* my cave. I'd passed the Star Fleet survival course: I'd even passed a ten-week course offered by the Klingons. But neither prepared me for the absolute isolation, the fears that haunted my dreams, or the depression that I had to fight after being there over a month.
The planet had once been colonized, but the settlers had moved on. The plasma storms were probably too much. We knew the planet had frequent visitors--the Talaxians in particular would come and gather supplies and salvage material from the abandoned colonies. If nothing else, I hoped I could leave this planet and persuade a ship to chase after Voyager. I did know where they were going after all.
It was over two months later that a Talaxian salvage crew found me, or rather I found them. They were surprised to see me and even offered to take me to Voyager. I was delighted. I would see my ship again, see him again: but right then I was just happy to have someone to talk to, a chance to clean-up, and to change into clean clothes. While the Talaxians completed their salvage operations, their Captain scanned the planet, many times over the three days we were there, for signs of Ensign Parsons. We never found him, but we did find the shuttle, or what remained of it. It wasn't even worth salvaging, but we scanned it. We will use what little data we gathered to try to reconstruct the accident.
I will recount most of this story in the official log, but I won't/can't tell all. Chakotay has finally fallen asleep, and I slipped away from him to tell this story. The feelings I had, of being lost, abandoned, forgotten, the fear, and despair can't be put in the official log. They are for public perusal, even personal logs get read by someone else. But this log is mine--I've not even shared it with Chakotay.
The Talaxian ship was small and cramped, but extremely efficient and fast. Maximum cruising speed of warp 8.2, and Captain Bwalix ordered the ship to run at warp 7.5 for most of the trip. They wouldn't hear of any payment, so I spent my time teaching them beginning tactics. The Talaxians were eager students, and the one battle we were involved in, they proudly used their new skills--very effectively too. This part I won't put in the official log either. I felt I owed them so much. Voyager owed them so much. It was another group of Talaxians that had helped us get her back what seems like ages ago. They too didn't expect payment.
Neelix may be annoying at times, but he is a true Talaxian--they have a generous spirit and a keen sense of adventure.
The time passed quickly, but not quickly enough. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever catch up with Voyager. We were consistently three to four weeks behind her. She must have maintained a top speed of only warp 6.2 for us to have even gotten that close.
Voyager stopped for an extended period of resupply, and we were able to catch up soon after that.
I beamed over. B'Elanna, Tuvok, and Chakotay were there. The Talaxians had told them that I was on board--but from the looks on all three faces, they must have thought the Talaxians meant my body. The look on his face, the moan that escaped from his lips as he knelt down in front of me--he had been through hell--the pain on his face sent shivers through me. I knelt down in front of him, and I held him, not caring who saw. He needed me--and I needed him. B'Elanna looked at me, she was quite shaken--I nodded my head and she left.
Tuvok waited a few minutes longer. I think I said, 'you didn't know,' or something. He nodded then quickly and quietly explained to me what had happened: how they had spent a little over a week scanning the planet, trying to find signs of survivors, they had even sent a probe.
Then he too left, leaving us alone.
I understood the anguish on their faces: only after assuring themselves of our demise would they have left--to have that assurance proved wrong...
We both started to cry, he wouldn't or rather couldn't let go, and I didn't want him to.
We had been in the transporter room over an hour. I can imagine what the crew thinks. Eventually, we made our way through the crew who had gathered in the passage way outside to confirm my return. The greetings were short and heartfelt.
We both tried to maintain our professional demeanor, but for the first time in our relationship we walked the halls of Voyager touching each other. His arm was around my waist, I would reach up to touch him. We both needed the reassurance that this wasn't a dream.
We made it to sick-bay, where Doc pronounced me fit, and wanted me to take a few days off. I refused and he didn't argue. Kes beamed at us, as she watched us leave. Afterwards, we returned to my quarters. No one disturbed us.
I had dreamed of him the first few weeks of my ordeal, of us making passionate love together, but the dreams were too real, too depressing and I eventually forced myself to try not to think of him. It wasn't until five days before the Talaxian ship intercepted Voyager that I allowed myself the luxury of again thinking of him. That was the first day that I *knew* we would successfully contact Voyager. We had just learned that Voyager had passed through the system 6 days earlier. The feelings that overcame me: joy, desire, were overwhelming. I didn't speak--later the Captain's wife had said 'I hadn't needed to. My smile was enough.' I remember going to sleep that night, willing him to slow down, to wait for me.
I had expected that we would make-love. We haven't, we spent the night reconnecting on a more personal level. He has not forgiven himself for leaving me, but what choice did he have? They all thought I was dead.
Tomorrow, or rather later this morning we will complete the transfer of command and I will be reinstated as Voyager's Captain. But right now, I'm just Kathryn Janeway and my lover awaits my return to his side. I can hear him stirring in the other room.