Part II: Soul Found (Chakotay)

It's time, it's time, a small voice whispers in my heart. Return me, Chakotay, I can go home.

I walk along the beach, revelling in the simple feeling of sand under my bare feet. Hoping that soon my friend will be walking beside me. A small stone sits in my breast pocket, my most important possession. Today I will give it away. Today I will return it.

It's from New Earth, a flattened, rounded riverstone, almost golden in colour. Once it was of little importance, a small momento. But one day, when I was meditating in my quarters, Kathryn's spirit guide entered my vision. I couldn't see her, but I knew her. She told me to keep safe what she gave me, to protect it with my life because it was Kathryn's life. And then I woke with the small stone in my palm.

I kept it close to me for the rest of our journey, and then through the bustle of our return, and the almost-calm and loneliness that followed. A burden, light in physical weight, that I am proud to carry despite its toll.

The sun has been swallowed by the sea when I see her, crumpled on the beach weeping. Oh, Kathryn. And in her uniform, too. There really is only the Captain left. The Captain was never herself without her uniform. And she is the only person I know who would come to the beach in it.

I crouch beside her, putting a hand gently on her shoulder.

Her head whips up, and she tries to pretend she hasn't been crying. I wipe her cheek with my thumb and she drops her head, ashamed. She never learns, does she? You never need to be ashamed around me, Kathryn. Neither does the Captain. Instead of trying to tell her that, though, I silently hand her the stone.

She stares at me for a moment. Yes, Kathryn, I'm crazy.

But her frown transforms into an amazed smile. "Kathryn?" she whispers hopefully. I nod, though she isn't looking at me. Yes. Kathryn.

She begins to cry again, but this time from pure joy, and I can see the hole in her eyes being filled by the bright spark that is Kathryn.

I sit beside her and look out at the final rays of a dying sun. The Captain's death pyre.

Her hand slips into mine, with a grateful squeeze.

Finally, I speak. "I kept her for you."

Fin

Copyright 2001