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Janeway’s thoughts: I think I’d know if you were dead. Hang on, Chakotay. Hang on, we’re coming for you.

Chakotay realized that this powerful communication was largely one way. He could sense their thoughts, but they could not sense him.

There was one more person he needed to check on—his friend Kaz. He brushed the mind of the Trill and for a moment was bombarded with thoughts—the thoughts of every one of Kaz’s hosts. But he focused, and it was easy enough to concentrate and home in on Jarem.

Chakotay and Sekaya seem to be all right, Kaz was thinking. I just hope they have time to do whatever they need to do.

“I’ve got to let them know I’m okay,” Chakotay said to Wesley.

“Then do it. This is all so much easier than you think, Chakotay. You’re making it much harder than it has to be.”

The young Traveler was right. Chakotay felt the reassurance, the calmness, and knew that his friends had received it.

“It’s time,” he said, not knowing how he knew, but knowing that it was urgent.

Wesley smiled. “Good luck, Chakotay. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Chakotay closed his eyes. He was ready now; each encounter had given him a gift of love, confidence, or understanding, and he knew he was, finally, mentally prepared to claim his heritage fully. He opened himself to the powers that came with the Sky Spirit DNA. He felt them flooding him, warming him, lending him strength and clarity and a power that came from a pure, strong, sweet source.

He felt himself falling, but knew no fear; he was falling into his body. And when he bolted upright in Crell Moset’s lab, seeing the Cardassian and Kaz staring at him with open mouths, he realized he had not returned from his spirit walk alone.

Beside him on the bed, body taut and alert, was an enormous black jaguar.

Chapter 22

AKOLO TARE HAD STARTED to move toward the conn when the storms first hit. She stumbled and clutched the railing. Tom cursed, but realized if it were him, he’d be doing the exact same thing. He’d want to get close to the conn, close to the pilot navigating the ship.

“Hang on!” he cried, nodding his head in the direction of the chair. She surged forward and grasped the back of his chair. Probably better this way, he thought. If I bash my head against the conn, she’ll be able to take over.

The storms were vicious. Kim had briefly filled him in about the Sky Spirit connection, and Paris had no trouble recalling the storm that had threatened to make them all stains on the back wall. They’d come very close to death that day, everyone on the ship. But at the last minute Chakotay had been able to convince the Sky Spirits that humans were peaceable creatures, that Voyager came on a friendly mission, not to terrorize and conquer. That was a legacy of the past, not the present or the future.

But down on the planet were no peaceful aliens thinking they were simply defending themselves. On Loran II was a Changeling who had demonstrated that he was quite capable of cold-blooded murder, and who had no compunctions about using his technology against Voyager.

Still, in the back of his mind, Tom thought that the storms weren’t quite as bad as he remembered. He was actually able to get through them, which was little short of a miracle. Bad, yes; manning the helm and navigating the vessel at the moment was hardly a walk in the park. But it wasn’t impossible.

“Almost there,” he called to Kim. “Brace yourselves.” And indeed, it was quite likely the bumpiest landing he had ever made. Voyager thudded heavily onto the soil, rocking violently as she settled into position. Paris heard a thump beside him and saw that Tare had landed in a heap on the floor. She’d cut her head and blood matted her thick, dark hair.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching down to help her up. Something flashed in her eyes and she recoiled—there was no other word for it—from his touch.

“Yes, sir. Thank you sir, I’m all right.” Unsteadily she got to her feet.

“Status report,” Paris ordered Campbell.

“Damage reports coming in—there