Game's End

 by Cheryl Forbes


Email for feedback: forbesc@skyia.com



Disclaimer: Voyager and her crew belong to Paramount and not me. Whatever.

Summary: In answer to Noelle's first line story challenge.


I remember being surprised when he asked me out. 

Don't get me wrong. I was pleased too, but damn. Did he have to do it right smack dab in the middle of the messhall in front of god, the captain and everyone? I know why he did it, but surely if he'd taken a little more time to think about it, he could have come up with a place that wasn't so public and still have shamed me into saying yes. 

But that was the problem, wasn't it? He didn't have time. In exactly one week he'd be gone and his chance to know physical contact would be gone with him. His reasons for choosing me of all the people to spend his last days with are as confusing as they are unexpected. I am not deserving of such an honour. Even now as I wait for him to come to me, I still wonder.

In all our years here in the Delta quadrant, I have given him no indication that I would welcome his affections. In fact, I have done everything within my power to discourage them and in light of my feelings for him, that has been the most monumental task of my life.

Beyond sense and comprehension I love him. I always have and for just as long, I've known my feelings would be unwanted. Casual friendship he would have taken but not this deep soul shattering desire. 

Despite his wide scope for loving all around him, it did not encompass me. It couldn't. The gap of hate and distrust between us was too wide for his hardened pride and too treacherous for my fragile heart to bridge. So in self-preservation, I have denied myself even the smallest of intimacies and have hidden my feelings in cold professionalism. I hate every minute of it but that's just the way things are. Or at least they were until we learned of his immanent departure.

Departure, it's a misleading word. Even though I have read the report of his condition over and over again until my eyes watered and my head hurt, I still cannot bring myself to accept what is really happening to him.

One recessive gene turned on by an alien scanning pulse is shutting down his higher brain functions. The process isn't gradual but abrupt and nothing in this quadrant can stop it. Only a cellular donation to remap his DNA from a family member light years away could put a stop to the sudden termination. 

"He's going to die."

There I've said it. It's out there and now there's no taking it back. In seven days the bright spark that is him will wink out of existence and I will no longer be able to bask in its glow no matter how indirect. His light will be gone and my life will be dark forever.

But that moment has not come yet. In a few short minutes, he will be here and I will remove the self-imposed restraints I have lashed to my heart. I will not brood about the past or the future but rejoice in the present. 

With all that I am, I will love him and cherish what little time has been granted to us and waste nothing.

I hear a beeping and call out for him to enter but the doors to my cabin do not open. I sit in confusion for a few moments before I realize it's my comm badge that has gone off and not the door chime. 

Standing, I slap at the small device on my chest.

"What is it?" I growl in irritation. This had better be good.

"Wormholes." Ensign Kim replies excitedly. "Hundreds of them!"



THE END