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Title: Nuclear Winter (1/5) [Book One]
Author: Arctapus/H-Boy
Codes: VOY, C/P eventually, Others, G to NC-17, AU, Spoilers for Season Seven, Violent, H/C, Angst fest, SLASH. MATURE.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns them and I borrow them. No copyright infringement should be implied.
Summary: An AU, Voyager encounters deceit, lies and deception on the way home. Spurred by the seventh season's episodes 'Drive' and 'Regression', this story builds on that premise and takes them back home in a different way.
Feedback, criticism, comments, and suggestions are very welcomed and I thank you in advance.
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It was quiet in his cabin as he stood by the window looking out at the stars. Beyond one thin pane the void stretched out into infinity. He had wondered as a child what came after the darkness. More darkness? Did it get light? He never figured it out, at least until now. The blackness stretched on forever and ever. It never , he walked to his replicator and conjured up a beer. Turning and walking to his window once more, he stood sipping the cold liquor, feeling it wash down his throat and pool in his belly.
/... darkness, darkness, all is darkness .../
He sighed, remembering the quotation in its entirety. It suited this moment. It suited this day, this year, this eternity. Turning, he leaned against the window, staring around the room that had been home for seven years. It was filled with his touches, small tokens from different places, the few Native things he saved from his ship. Koko-peli, he danced across a pattern on his chair, eternally playing. Chakotay sighed, the sense of malaise filling him overwhelming. He closed his eyes, shutting out the world around him and tried to imagine home.
His father's face came before him and the pang of regret and sorrow that pierced him was profound. It was like a needle working its way into his soul and he closed his eyes willing it to go away. It took a while but his balance returned, forced into place by his iron will. He sighed deeply, blinking his suddenly too hot eyes and as he did a single tear escaped. It slid down his cheek, wet and hot, making its way to his chin. Rubbing his face brusquely, he turned and stared at the darkness once more. It was darker than yesterday he thought, sighing. It would be darker tomorrow and the next day and all the rest.
Tom Paris was married.
And he, Chakotay, was alone.
*****On the Bridge...
The mail call had come and everyone was happy with their monthly letter from home. Chakotay took his and stared at the name, noting a cousin from Ohio had taken his mother's space. Letters from his mother, sisters and brothers were rarer, something that had seemed strange until it had been explained that they were in a queue, waiting their turn to be sent. It hadn't been a great explanation but coming from Star Fleet probably a true one. Tuvok got one from his son, Sek or so he was told. His boy was a source of joy for Tuvok although one had to be a serious student of him to see the minute traces of pride and happiness that even his iron will couldn't conceal.
Kathryn got a letter, the smile on her face meaning her mother and sister wrote to her. Others got mail too, Neelix delivering it to them as they flew towards home, ever home. Their shift was nearly over and soon they would be where they were supposed to be, outside of the binary system of Tl'tsi. Tuvok would accompany him on a diplomatic mission, a 'sharing of information' chat if you will. They would exchange information about where they had come from and get information about what lay ahead.
Quid pro quo.
"We're coming within two light years of our destination,
Captain," Tom said, turning and glancing back, the letter padd lying near him unopened.
Chakotay flashed on what he knew of Tom's family, his overbearing father, his sweet and loving mother, sisters that could do no wrong. He knew why Tom was reluctant to open the letter but his supernal interest in that man made him want to know.
"Commander, it looks like it's time for you and Tuvok to do the honors," Kathryn said, a half smile on her face. He turned his eyes reluctantly from Tom, turning them to Kathryn's face. A moment of forgotten passion flashed through his mind and was quashed as it always was, pushed away and hidden once again in the recesses with all the other failed dreams of his past. "It should only take a couple of days. We'll rendezvous with you at the chosen place."
Kathryn nodded. "Take care and good luck."
Chakotay nodded and rose, glancing at the helm once more. A
golden head bent over his station mocked him as stared. Tom didn't know. He didn't know anything. He was married, happy and fulfilled. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked to the lift, followed by Tuvok. He turned and watched as long as he could, the lift door obscuring his view at last. Sighing silently, Chakotay clasped his hands behind his back as he rode the lift to the hangar deck. At his side, sensing Chakotay's distress, Tuvok stood silently.
*****Late that night...
He slept soundly, unbroken by dreams and beside him his wife lay. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts consumed by their earlier conversation. It was the eternal argument, the one thing that couldn't be changed and she felt the same restlessness inside her as ever.
"You really should read that, Tom."
"Later."
"You know, there's a statistically good chance that we'll make it home and then you'll *have* to face him. You need to make that moment easier by talking to each other now. I mean, you have a *whole month* to figure out what to say."
"I don't want to talk about it, B'Elanna," Tom said, exasperation in his voice.
He had risen and walked to the bedroom, stripping and showering. Pulling on bed clothes, he had slipped into the sheets, laying back with an arm thrown over his face. She had stared at him from the doorway, noting his unyielding demeanor and felt deja vu. Turning herself, she went through her routine and joined him, noting his solitary composure for a moment. Then, with determination, she turned and burrowed into him and settled, relaxing as his arm embraced her. Sighing deeply, she relaxed against his warmth and closed her eyes. The eternal argument would be for another day she thought, falling slowly into sleep herself. Tom would take a lot, lot longer.
*****On the way back...
The meeting had been a success, a pleasant interlude with a strange and cultivated people. He enjoyed seeing new things but the gloss that covered his life, making things more interesting and more colorful was gone. The depression that settled in was going to stay for a long time. He hadn't felt this low since he came to realize that Kathryn would never love him. Even when they were the only two people on an entire planet, he could not win her. She wouldn't give in. He felt stupid, he felt ... ugly and worthless. For the first time in his life, he felt these things and it wounded him. He had fallen back into an all business façade as he licked his wounds, pondering what there was about him that made relationships poisonous.
Seska.
Kathryn.
Tom...
He had never acknowledged to Tom that he was attracted to him, never believing that the lanky blond could be attracted back. Given his trackrecord he wasn't about to signal *that* infatuation to a man he couldn't be sure would return any affection. For Tom Paris to have that power over him was out of the question. So he sat and watched, wincing with every involvement, every dalliance. He watched other people touch Tom, savoring his body and his glib and amusing company. He watched others take what he craved and as usual, he felt raw and jealous and angry. Unfortunately, for Tom that anger was outwardly directed an emotionally tortured beam that caught the pilot squarely in its focus and he bore the brunt of Chakotay's frustrated sexuality for a long time. Then with characteristic strength of character, Chakotay began to gather himself back.
Tom wasn't to blame for what Chakotay's heart felt. It was up to him to tell Tom, to see if anything was possible between them. It was up to him to make himself appealing to the easy-going, complicated younger man. They skied together, they swam, Chakotay sparred with him from time to time, and they played cards. In short, they became friendly, even friends, and Chakotay confirmed that the feelings he had amounted to a lot more than just a desire to bed Paris. They slowly transformed themselves into the one thing he had sought all his adult life: a deep and abiding love.
He never told Paris, watching as he began a tentative relationship with B'Elanna. B'Elanna was nearly a daughter to him, a good person with no confidence and a lot of rage. He had taken her in, they were friends and confidantes and so he waited for Tom and her to fall away from each other as they had with every other person they had ever tried to love. They were so volatile, so unalike in many ways and he felt in time they would come apart on their own. He would wait and be there for both of them, the playing field open to him once more. Only it never happened. They argued, fought and made up and fought again and then in an incomprehensible moment, he was giving her away in a small ceremony in the Captain's Ready Room. He stood there and watched them, saying a simple promise and when it was over he pretended to be happy all the while his heart ached with shock and dismay.
/... until death do you part.../
Death.
It was a long way off but it felt like it hovered around him, sucking the joy that he once felt away from him. The joy of being close, the joy of amusing company, all of it was over now. There would be no more good times. There would be no more moments of possibility. There would be no more hope. He heard a noise behind him, Tuvok moving in the Flyer, going about his business while Chakotay flew her. He heard footsteps come up behind him and he turned, glancing up just as a hand gripped his head. It was enormously strong and then fingers placed themselves alongside his face. Pain suffused him, jabbing into his brain like spear points and he cried out, closing his eyes tightly. He could feel Tuvok inside his head, driving himself through layers of his own personal mental conditioning deep into the private layers of his personal mind.
"Your thoughts to my thoughts," Tuvok murmured, his eyes closing as he began to tell the words that would transform all their lives forever. "My thoughts to your thoughts... now is the time of the awakening ... this is a holy time ... primal energy recharges the blood ... this is the time of the rebirth ..."
Chakotay gasped, grimacing as the words penetrated deep into his mind. They found their place, touching something keep long from his consciousness and he cried out, relaxing slightly as Tuvok pulled back, letting him slump in his chair. Chakotay sighed raggedly, rising from the console, turning and looking at Tuvok with confusion. "The time of the awakening..." Chakotay whispered, trying to grasp the change in him.
Tuvok steadied him, holding his shoulders. "Pok temphar potani."
Chakotay stilled, his face suddenly calm. Then he nodded. "I understand."
With a sigh Tuvok let him go, stepping back as Chakotay turned and sat, staring at the console with a new purpose. Tuvok took his station and they flew on, twelve hours away from Voyager. Twelve hours away from the new life that would take them home again, home to a world they wouldn't recognize.
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Nuclear Winter (2/5) [Book One]
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Back on board Voyager...
He walked down the corridor, nodding to crew, seeing everything as it was but with different eyes. Things were changed, things would never be the same and he knew that their success would depend on clear thinking, careful planning and stealth. The twelve hour flight back to Voyager had quieted the fire in his gut, the fire that drove him to take over the ship. He wanted to do so with alacrity at first but sitting and flying had quieted the turmoil.
He had talked to Tuvok, discussing their unique and changed status and by the time Voyager hove into view they both knew what they would do. It would not be the rush, rush, rush that clawed at them. That voice had been stilled by Tuvok's mental dexterity. It would be careful, slow and perfect. Nothing could be done that would jeopardize the goal of succeeding. The Maquis cause, the future security of their homes and families depended upon what they did right here.
Chakotay had gone to the Bridge and made his report, noting Kathryn with new eyes. She was the enemy now. She would never understand. She would have to be handled carefully. Rising from his station, he glanced at Tuvok, meeting his eyes. They held for a moment, multitudes of understanding passing between them and then he moved to the lift, heading for his rounds of the ship. All would continue until they got word back at the end of the month.
He had attached a special code to his own message, a spider that would crawl away from his letter, moving along the electrical pathways that would take it to the one he sought. When the message came back, he would know. Until then, with care and effort, they would still the noise in their minds and move through their routines, each doing what had been agreed upon while they waited. Tuvok had the greatest job at this moment, the one that might still the gnawing doubt that plagued Chakotay. Later this night Tuvok would report to him in Chakotay's cabin and they would know just how deep and how wide the conspiracy was. Leaving the lift, he moved off on his journey, going through the motions of his routine even as he waited for the evening to come.
*****Later that night...
They sat in his cabin going over the evidence. It was grim.
Chakotay stared at it, noting the dates and the content. It was all true, his suspicions awakened by the bond between them and now the lines had been clearly delineated. "This makes our mission very clear."
Chakotay nodded. "It does. She knew."
Tuvok nodded. Chakotay rose and walked to the window, his heart constricted with a sense of betrayal that was all encompassing.
"She knew from the beginning. She didn't tell me."
Tuvok glanced at him. "Nor me. She was ordered not to."
Chakotay sighed. "All lies, all of it. Lies she gave to keep us in our place making it possible for us to be taken when we get back. And we *will* get back."
Tuvok picked up a padd, staring at it. "So it would appear."
"We have to be ready. We have to make sure when it happens that the Maquis are in charge."
"That can be arranged."
Chakotay nodded. "We will make it so," he said softly, turning and staring at the padd in Tuvok's hand. It contained maps of a sector of space only a month from where they were, a sector that contained a wormhole that showed promise. There was data on its size, its configuration, its frequency, and its stability. It led from this spot to the edge of Federation space about once every three days. Star Fleet was determined to have them be there. Chakotay was too. However, he had begun to formulate other ideas as well.
*****Late that night...
Chakotay paced, his emotions at the edge of explosion. It was hard resisting but they both managed, the days falling away one after another as they waited. He had read Janeway's letters, hidden carefully in them a code for Star Fleet Captains that only she was supposed to know. Chakotay remembered it, having broken it before during the war and he remembered it now. The orders had been simple and they had been continuous from the beginning of the transmissions that had been sent to them from the Federation over the wavering transmission line.
On the surface they talked of peace and reconciliation, of the destruction of the Maquis years before. All of the news from home was of settlement and surrender to inevitability, of happiness with the status quo. Underneath they told an entirely different story. The glib difference ... indifference ... between the two transmissions preyed on his mind and his sleep lately had been hard won.
Fact: The Maquis were alive and well. They were thriving. The war with the Dominion and their allies was over but the battle for the frontier raged on. The Maquis were waging it, well and long.
Fact: The letters sent telling of their destruction, of the loss of thousands and thousands of their friends and comrades were lies. They weren't dead. Many were in prison camps, Arizona and
Kansas in particular, but most of them were still waging war.
The leadership was taken in trade from the Cardassians as a part of the concessions of war settlement.
Fact: The war raged. The frontier was still endangered and the
Federation hadn't made amends to the people they had tossed away. They still felt they owned them. They still felt they had to obey Federation law even though many of them lost their Federation citizenship years before in the war.
Fact: Kathryn knew. She knew... Everything. Every. Damned. Thing.
He bit his lip, pausing in his pacing and turned to the window, staring at the star field beyond. In less than a month, they would be near their place of departure, the wormhole beckoning them home. In less than a month, they would know what the real truth was. Then, at that precise moment, they would be ready. He turned, glancing at a picture cube with images of Kathryn and him together, smiling like colleagues and friends. He reached down and picked it up, staring at it, remembering the moments and the emotions. He stared at it for a moment and then with rage, turned and threw it against the far wall.
It shattered and splintered, the images winking out. They disappeared just like his trust, his emotions and his hope. In their place another figure coalesced, the Maquis leader, the resistance fighter, the man capable of attacking and killing and dying for a cause he believed in. The man who gave up his dreams and returned home to live and die in the pursuit of his father's vengeance emerged from the smoking ruins of his old life. In the place of the Star Fleet Commander, a Maquis warrior emerged.
*****Two days later...
Tom Paris sat in the Mess Hall nursing a cup of coffee. He watched Chakotay, noting his tension and wondered what could be bothering the tall, quiet man. He had taken to eating by himself or with Tuvok, avoiding most of the others. Janeway had noticed, he was certain, and all of her overtures to Chakotay were politely rebuffed. He wondered if Chakotay had received bad news from home. He hoped not. He cared about Chakotay, admiring his patient and confident strength. For too many years, they had been distant, distracted and separated by their disparate temperaments and points of view.
He, himself, had been flighty, self-involved, filled with seething anger and a desire to prove something to someone and when he met Chakotay he found that sounding board, that back board in which he battered himself until he found himself becoming more the man he wanted to be. Chakotay had disdained him, fought him, believed in him, transformed him, shaped him with his attitudes, and together they had become friends. It had been a process of assimilation and reformation, redemption and maturation. The boy with an attitude that had stepped from Deep Space Nine onto the shining decks of Voyager was not the same man sitting by the window staring at the intense and solitary figure eating alone.
Rising, cup in hand, Tom walked to where Chakotay sat, so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't see Tom stop before him, pausing with a thoughtful look on his face. "May I join you?" Tom asked, waiting.
Chakotay started and looked up, flushing slightly. He nodded and Tom pulled out a chair, sitting and resting his elbows on the table as he cradled his cup in his hands. "You look pensive. Are you all right?"
Chakotay looked at Tom, noting his handsome face and pale skin. He repressed a sigh. "I'm fine."
Tom paused a moment, looking at Chakotay thoughtfully. "Oooo-kay."
Chakotay paused, putting down his cup. "So, how's married life?"
Tom thought a moment, considering the change in the conversation. "It's good, Chakotay. Really, really good."
Chakotay quashed a pang of pain and nodded. "Good."
They sat together, awkward in their silence.
"What's really wrong?" Tom asked again. "I know you. I know when something's wrong with you."
"You don't know me, Tom. No one does."
Tom considered Chakotay's quiet words, pondering the silence behind them. He leaned in closer. "I would like to."
Chakotay stared at Tom, impossible thoughts going through his mind.
/... I would like to .../
"It's too late," Chakotay replied evenly, his dark eyes never leaving Tom's face.
Tom stared at Chakotay, their gaze even and then slowly it dawned on him what the older man was saying. He felt himself pale, the full impact of what he thought he was hearing washing through him like a tide. He sat back, his eyes never leaving Chakotay's still face. "Chakotay..."
Chakotay sat back, his eyes fastened on a chair behind Tom. He stared at it, the turmoil in his mind rising and falling within the iron grip of his self-discipline. He sighed audibly, staring down at his half-eaten lunch.
"Chakotay?"
He looked up, meeting the pained eyes of the one person in the entire galaxy he was sure he could love, the only person he had ever met that *could* be the one who would make him feel complete. He stared at Tom's handsome face, his blue eyes filled with compassion and pained realization and sighed. "Chakotay, you never said a word to me."
"What's to say? We never really had a chance to be more than we are."
"You should have said something. You should have ... have talked to me."
"When? When we were enemies? When we were in the Maquis? When you were chasing half the women on this ship? Before I gave B'Elanna to you in marriage? When, Tom?"
It was silent, tomb-like and still.
"I'm sorry."
"For what? For me being a fool?"
"Chakotay ... you're not a fool."
"I am but that's my burden, Tom. You have B'Elanna and a future.
That's your path." Chakotay rose, gathering his gear. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm ... I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."
Chakotay turned and walked to the recycler, stuffing his tray and dishes down the slot. Without a backward glance, he turned and left the room, leaving behind an astonished helmsman and a link that even he couldn't have imagined in a thousand lifetimes.
*****Late at night...
Chakotay stared at the shattered remains of his picture cube and shook his head. He rubbed his face and made up his mind. Turning, he walked to the door and left, walking down the hall to the lift. Entering, he called the floor he wanted and rode it down, getting out on the deck in question and walking briskly through the empty halls. Pausing before a door, he pressed the chime. For a moment there was stillness and then the door slide open. A small and slim man, black hair tousled and eyes half closed in sleep appeared dressed in a white robe.
"Commander?"
"Hi," Chakotay said, suddenly filled with sorrow and neediness.
"Are you alone?"
Tabor blinked and nodded. "Sure. Come in."
Chakotay sighed deeply and nodded, stepping past the quiet Bajoran. The door slid shut and they turned, facing each other.
"What's wrong, Chakotay?" Tabor asked, his dark eyes searching his Captain for the cause of his distress.
"I ... I ..." Chakotay paused, half-turning away.
Tabor stepped forward, turning Chakotay toward him. Chakotay's dark eyes met his, their faces close.
"I need someone tonight," he whispered, sliding his hands inside the Bajoran's robe. He touched skin, naked warm skin and he pulled Tabor closer. "I need someone to hold me tonight."
Tabor smiled slightly and nodded, stepping closer, looking up into the taller man's anguished face. "All right," he whispered as Chakotay's mouth covered his with a kiss.
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Nuclear Winter (3/5) [Book One]
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It was early when he woke up, the darkness of the room comforting. Next to him, lying alongside his body, his arms wrapped around him, Tabor slept. Warmth flashed through him, stirring his soul, the first real feeling he had since knowing the truth. He didn't move, enjoying the feel of warm flesh against his body. It had been a long time since he had made love with anyone. He had come to Tabor, the quiet Bajoran welcoming him like he knew he would. Tabor was beautiful, slim and small, and he had given himself to the younger man with almost a sense of gratitude.
He had devoured Tabor, savoring the contact with an almost appalling intensity. He had lain on warm skin, slick with the sweat of mutual passion and together they had touched and kissed, their soft voices echoing in the dark room. He had taken Tabor, moving behind him and when he came, it was hard and ragged.
Tabor had fallen forward, lying in a heap, sweat slicked and exhausted. He sprawled before Chakotay, who sat back panting with relief and release. It felt good but it was no substitute for what he wanted the most. However that would never be.
He had sat there staring at the body sprawled before him and all he could think about was someone else. He moved forward, lying down beside Tabor, rubbing his back gently with his hand.
"You all right?" he asked softly, noting Tabor's thick dark hair plastered to his face. He brushed it back, revealing bemused black eyes.
"I'm okay. Ask me tomorrow," he said, smiling as he lie face forward and still, looking upward over his shoulder at the big man beside him.
Chakotay smiled back and leaned down, kissing Tabor's shoulder. He lay back, rubbing his chest with his hand. Sighing, he closed his eyes.
"What's bothering you, Chakotay?" Tabor asked, moving to lie alongside his partner, his elbow propping him up so he could watch Chakotay's face.
Chakotay sighed. "I don't ... I can't explain it."
"You've been strange lately, sort of lonely," Tabor probed gently. He slid his hand across Chakotay's chest, fingering a dark nipple. "You seem sad."
Chakotay stared at the ceiling, silent and still.
"You love someone and they don't love you back."
Chakotay turned his head, gazing up at Tabor. He didn't dare speak, he didn't dare reveal himself and he didn't dare hurt this man.
"I'm right aren't I?"
Chakotay sighed. "It doesn't matter. Nothing really matters."
"You didn't get bad news did you? From home?" Tabor asked, rubbing his face against Chakotay's chest.
"It doesn't matter."
"It does. To you." Tabor regarded him. "I've always liked you. I've always admired you. You're a good man, Chakotay. Sometimes I don't think even you know how much. I don't like to see you hurt. I don't like to see you so lonely."
Chakotay sighed and bit his lip. "Sometimes you don't get to have what you want."
"We know. No Bajoran would argue. But sometimes you have to try. Sometimes you have to have dreams."
Chakotay closed his eyes, listening to Tabor's soft gentle voice.
"I saw terrible things, Chakotay, all my life. The Maquis was the first home I ever had. You were so important to me, making me feel that I had a home and someone who cared about me. I always wanted this, giving you something back. When you're sad you can
come here."
"I can't ... I can't take advantage," Chakotay stammered, his chest tight with emotion.
"You aren't. I get scared too. You can come to me. It means something to me to take care of you. You took care of me when I needed it. Now it's my turn," Tabor said, sliding up. He leaned down and kissed Chakotay, softly brushing his lips against Chakotay's over and over. Chakotay's strong arms encircled him, pulling him up to lie on top of his bigger body. He settled down, resting peacefully as Chakotay stroked his back, running his hands up and down Tabor's body. "It'll be all right, Chakotay. You can trust me," Tabor said, closing his eyes under Chakotay's gentle touch.
Chakotay sighed. "Thank you," he whispered, heart-felt and soft.
It was quiet for a long time before they rose and showered together, silently moving about the small bathroom side by side. Chakotay dressed and walked to the door, Tabor standing beside him, waiting. He turned and took Tabor's face into his hands, leaning down and kissing him as softly and tenderly as he could.
"Thank you. You saved me tonight," Chakotay said, kissing him again.
"Then we're closer to even now," Tabor said. "Take it as down payment for all the times you saved me."
Chakotay smiled. "Sleep tight."
"I will," Tabor said, smiling as Chakotay turned and walked out of the room. The door closed and Tabor stood staring at it, his mind filled with emotions and sounds and sensations. With a deep sigh, he turned and walked to his bed to sleep.
*****The next day...
Tuvok walked to the First Officer's office, padds in hand and a grim look on his face. He nodded to others as he walked in, a night of meditation under his belt. The voice in his head exhorting him on had been stilled with effort and as he walked to Chakotay's office, he was in control of himself completely. He pressed the chime and heard Chakotay's voice calling him in. He entered and walked to the window where his superior was standing, staring out at the space beyond. "I have reviewed all the letters sent to us over the past year. In all of them there is a theme that is similar. For Star Fleet crewmembers, the information is random and varied. For Maquis crewmembers, the patterns are clear. 'We miss you, we want you home, everyone is fine'. The detail is specious, without depth and given the situation as we have come to know it, it could have been written by committee."
Chakotay sighed and swallowed, turning to meet Tuvok's eyes. He nodded. "Just as we expected."
"I have made a survey of our people, all sixty of them. It would not take a lot of effort to bring them over to us. If we have to we can call them to a location in which this can be affected."
Chakotay nodded. "The others, they worry me. We would have to neutralize the 'Fleet crew."
"Lock them down. The senior staff can be rounded up and over come. Our people are in significant places already."
Chakotay nodded. "We have two more weeks before the news comes back."
"Your contact ... you can be sure of what they say?"
"If they lied, if the Maquis is still with us, then he will send back to me proof. If it is, then we're all going to prison if we don't act."
Tuvok nodded. "I must return to my station."
Chakotay nodded. "Are you all right?"
"I have control. Meditation is helping me a great deal."
"Good," he replied, relieved. "We'll not move until we get confirmation."
Tuvok nodded and turned, walking out of the office. The door slipped shut, closing him off again. He stared at it and then he forced himself to turn and begin his endless work once again.
*****One week later …
Kathryn Janeway walked to her cabin, entering and removing her jacket. She walked to her bathroom and ran a hot tub of water and bubbles, stirring it with her hand as she thought about the ordeal to come in about a week. Her final orders would be there, telling her what to do about their return to the Federation and the Alpha Quadrant. She turned and stripped off her uniform, her body aching with the tension that had gripped her since the notice of her orders had arrived a year before. The joy of being in touch with home had turned to dust about three months later as she was told in the deepest confidence the truth about things back home. The Federation was at odds with the Maquis. They had called it that, saying that the conflict had not ended with the Dominion War. They were fighting a guerilla force, moving like shadows across the quadrant, inflicting more damage for their size and level of technology than the Cardassians did in some ways.
They were to go through the wormhole, follow ships "in honor" to Deep Space Nine, the nearest station, and then when there they would be separated and the Maquis "taken into protective custody" until their status could be determined. She was assured that this was a formality due to the situation and that they would most likely be returned to their home worlds. The original 'Fleet crew would be repatriated to their families right away. It was the way things were now. Nothing personal they implied.
She, of course, felt otherwise. But she was also regular Star Fleet. Surely they would listen to reason when she got there, handing them their logs and telling them of her crew's gallantry under long years of appalling conditions. She was sure it could be cleared up if they would listen. As it was now, she didn't dare breathe a word. If the Maquis thought that they would be confiscated upon arrival in the Federation there would be hell to pay. So, in the interests of everyone concerned, she kept it to herself.
What she didn't know is that forces had been put into play by decisions taken years before and now there would be no turning back from what would be coming. She slipped into the water, leaning back, her hair wrapped in a towel, glass of wine in hand as she relaxed. The closer they came the more tense she felt. Her nights were spent collating information about their journeys, lists of accomplishments by each of her Maquis crew. She would be ready to fight for them once they made the threshold of the wormhole. She had to be ready. Closing her eyes, she lay quietly soaking before getting out and spending the night working on her project.
*****Mail time...
Chakotay took his latest letter, noting that this time it was from a cousin he never heard of who lived supposedly in Arizona. It made sense. Arizona was part of his ancestral inheritance. He smiled and thanked Neelix, excusing himself from the Bridge. Tom watched him go, noting that he, himself had a letter from his sister this time. He watched until Chakotay disappeared, his face worried as he stared at the closing door of the lift. The older man had been avoiding him, making sure that their paths never crossed. When he would see Tom coming, he left wherever he was, moving out of sight and mind as casually as he could.
/... it's too late.../
The words echoed in his brain, disturbing him with the sadness and loneliness that they embodied. Since his marriage he had been busy with his life, weaving into his mind and day another person, their needs and expectations. They worked long hours, sure, but they still managed to be together. It was easier and harder than he had imagined, the two of them rather compatible, more so than he had hoped for.
He still had his fun and games with his friends but he also had companionship and sex and friendship and love from B'Elanna. That was warming and good. Something he never figured he would have, he had in spades. He hadn't told his family yet, deciding he had plenty of time. When he got back or when they got closer he would tell them and only then. Right now all that he had was his private domain, something that was for Voyager and Voyager alone. He sat at his helm, flying the ship, a small part of his gut in turmoil over what Chakotay had said and how he was now, alone and emotionally isolated.
It hurt. It was unsolvable. Nothing he could do would make it right. With a sigh, he glanced at his padd, smiling at the sight of his sister's name. He would read it in a while, waiting to savor the sound of her voice for the first time in nine long years.
*****First Officer's Office...
Chakotay sat at his desk, stunned, amazed and filled with so many conflicting emotions he couldn't stand up. He sat and stared into the foreground, his mind filled with screaming sounds of pain and anger. The time passed, an amount of time that had no meaning for him and by the time the door chimed he was stiff from sitting in his chair, clenching the arms in his hands. Releasing them, he sat back, deflated like a balloon. Rising slowly, he acknowledged the chime, moving toward the washbasin in his small restroom even as the door opened.
Tuvok walked in, noting Chakotay's emotional disarray and waited, knowing from experience that the human would tell him once he exerted his iron control again. Chakotay splashed his face, rubbing it as he willed feeling back, drying his face with a small white towel. Turning, he glanced at Tuvok, nodding slightly.
"Captain," Tuvok began tentatively. "I assume you have confirmation."
He nodded, taking a deep ragged breath. "Yeah. We have confirmation."
"So..." Tuvok prompted gently.
"We prepare for the trip through the wormhole. We have to be ready to leave away from the group that's going to be waiting for us on the other side. We have to make a run for Maquis territory."
Tuvok nodded. "Then we begin the reclamation tomorrow?"
Chakotay nodded. "Janeway will be telling us about the wormhole shortly."
"That is correct. She received information regarding that in this transmission. I suspect that in about four days we will be told. I expect that the crew will be with us by then."
"I'll help you. We can call them to the cargo deck a few at a time."
Tuvok nodded. "That would be most feasible."
Chakotay nodded, staring at the padd on his desk. "Very well. Contact me and I'll be there."
Tuvok nodded, hesitating. Then he turned and left, leaving Chakotay alone with his thoughts.
*****Later that night...
Chakotay lay on his side Tabor spooned behind him. He had come there earlier and they had fallen to the bed, moving against each other with a passionate need. Chakotay had expended a portion of his immediate misery, giving Tabor as good as he, himself got. They had lay together, Tabor instinctively knowing that silence was indeed the best path between them this day and when they shifted to sleep, he spooned behind Chakotay, holding and comforting him with his touch.
Chakotay sighed deeply, lying quietly. A soft kiss to his shoulder coaxed a ghost of a smile from him. He laced his fingers through Tabor's. "Thanks, Tabor," he whispered.
Tabor kissed his neck. "Sleep, Chakotay. It'll be all right."
Chakotay squeezed Tabor's hand, relaxing slightly. "If you say so, Tabor."
"I do," he whispered, snuggling closer to his old Captain.
The room was quiet as the night ticked by. It would be impossible for Chakotay to fall asleep this night. Too much was coming. He knew too much as well. It was all he could do not to cry.
=0=
Nuclear Winter (4/5) [Book One]
=0=
Bridge...
Kathryn Janeway stood on the Bridge, a padd in her hand. She stared at the screen, ignoring the people working quietly at their stations. Chakotay sat on his chair, watching her with dark eyes, his emotions under iron control. She turned and looked at him, her face curious at his direct stare. Moving closer, she sat down facing him. "You look pensive this morning."
"I didn't sleep well," Chakotay replied, his face a mask of impassivity.
"I have to talk to you. Join me in my Ready Room."
Chakotay nodded and rose, following her as she walked. "You have the conn, Tuvok."
He nodded to her, glancing at Chakotay, his eyes dark with emotion. They disappeared into the hallway, heading for her room and Tuvok watched them go. Soon they would begin the reclamation project that would bring all of them back to their right mind. Staring at the screen before him, he began the initial sweeps that would locate a stable wormhole for them to use in their final leap back to their own home space.
She walked to her couch, sitting down, her eyes focused on the quiet man standing before her. Patting the couch, she waited as Chakotay reluctantly joined her. "Is there something wrong?" she asked, her eyes focused upon him.
"I'm just tired," Chakotay replied, schooling his body and face to listen to her.
"I would like you to read this please."
She handed him the padd, watching him closely as he read it, his own face impassive. He nodded and handed it back to her, waiting for her to speak. She stared at him and then rose, walking to the replicator. Calling up coffee, she turned and looked at him. "Tea?"
He shook his head, waiting blandly for her to tell him what he already knew.
"I gave you a padd detailing a wormhole present to our current location that can most likely take us home in about a week and all you can do is sit there?"
"I don't know what to say? When did this arrive?" he asked, watching her tense body as she walked back and sat.
"I received it in the last sending of letters. I didn't want to say anything until we got close to it. I want to study it before the crew is told. We've been through this before and I don't want to build people up just to have their hopes dashed."
Chakotay nodded. "So you expect us to investigate it and then make the decision about telling or not?"
She nodded. "Precisely."
Chakotay rose and nodded. "Very well. We seem to be close to the edge of our sensor range. We better get on with it."
She stared at him and nodded, rising and watching as he turned and walked to the door. He waited, turning to watch her with a passive expression. She nodded."You go ahead. Start the sweeps. I'll be right there."
He nodded and turned, walking back to the Bridge, watching as Tuvok bent over his board, sweeping the space ahead for any sign of the anomaly. He sat, watching the console beside him and worked to center his rising anguish. In front of him Tom sat, flying the ship while Harry worked at his station equally diligently. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Kathryn walked back out, the padd in her hand. She stared at the screen, her body stiff. Turning to Harry, she cleared her throat. "Harry. Start sweeping space dead ahead for anomalies. I am seeking the signature of a wormhole."
Harry blinked at her, a surprised look on his face. "A wormhole? You know of one out there?"
"Perhaps," she said, walking slowly to sit at her station. "Look for them."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, bending over his panel.
The Bridge was silent, no one talking as they labored. Chakotay watched his station, concentrating on the data that flowed past him on the screen. He ignored Janeway, thinking about the ordeal ahead. Tonight they would begin the process of mind melds that would awaken in the crew what obviously was buried all this time. He considered Tyro Anadis, the fanatic Vedek so clearly
responsible for what was happening to him and to Tuvok. A part of him was appalled and a part of him owed a debt. Without this conditioning and that was clearly what it was, they would have crossed the threshold into a prison. Now, with their iron control, they would dictate the return in their own terms. For that, Chakotay could forgive Anadis. The moral and ethical implications of his fanaticism had taken a back seat to the terrible reality of their situation. In short, the invasion of their psyche by the fanatic had made it possible for them to not only save their own lives but do something positive for the cause that was still alive and well.
For a long time it was silent and then Harry's voice rang out.
"Captain, I'm picking up a signature ... it's a wormhole."
"Confirm it," Janeway said, her voice crisp and her eyes focused on the screen was silent and tense and then Harry spoke again.
"Confirmed."
Chakotay took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He looked at the screen, meeting Tom's eyes. Janeway rose and walked toward the conn slowly. "Mr. Paris, take us to within a million kilometers of the anomaly."
"Yes, ma'am," Tom said, turning and punching in the appropriate information.
They moved smoothly, edging through the darkness until they came upon a site that seethed with neutrinos. The wormhole itself was not in evidence and they sat quietly, staring at a normal-appearing sector of space.
"It won't be visible for two more days, Captain," Harry said, his hands dancing over the panel quickly. "It comes and goes. When it does we can send a probe through and see where it comes out."
She nodded and turned, her eyes fixed on her First Officer. His impassivity was very odd and she was worried about it. Moving to her seat, she leaned over. "You have no excitement. You worry me."
"You don't seem very excited either," Chakotay said softly.
He looked at her, feeling the betrayal filling him again. "You hardly seem happy yourself."
"We've been through this before," she replied.
"We never had the help of Star Fleet Science behind us. Obviously they know what this wormhole can do and what it can't do. We're going through it to the other side or they wouldn't have told us."
She sat quietly. "Don't you want to go home?"
"Of course," he said, his voice deliberately calm.
"Then we will," she said, glancing at him, watching his face as he stared at the screen. She rose and turned to him, gripping the padd in her hand tightly. "I'll be in my Ready Room."
He nodded and watched her as she walked away. When she was gone Chakotay turned and glanced at Tuvok. Dark Vulcan eyes met his and he nodded, moving from his station to the lift. In minutes he would be in his office and the first of ten former Maquis would be brought over by him to the truth. Once they were secure and had their orders firmly in mind, they would adjourn to Cargo Deck Four for more conversions from the unreality they had been living in for all these long years. Chakotay stared at the screen, noting the blackness of space. It never changed. He knew it wouldn't even as they exchanged the Delta Quadrant for the Alpha. It would still be dark but the possibility of creating light once again in their own lives was greater.
He sighed and rested his eyes on Tom's golden hair, noting his broad shoulders and trim form sitting as usual forward. It felt good, natural, painful and terrible to do that but he had to. In a few days he didn't know what would happen and what would be the fate of the diverse people that he had grown to love. Soon they would be home and nothing could be counted on from that moment forward.
*****Tuvok's Office...
"You called for me, Commander?"
Tabor waited in the doorway, his handsome face filled with curiosity. Tuvok looked up and nodded, motioning for the Bajoran to sit on the chair before his desk. Tabor moved, sitting on the chair, folding his hands in his lap nervously.
Tuvok walked around his desk, pausing just behind the Bajoran. Tabor sat waiting, his mind filled with the kind of non-specific guilt a person gets when a supervisor summons you and you don't know what they want.
"Commander?" he asked as a hand gripped his shoulder. It was like iron, holding him still and he was leaned back as fingers lined up on the side of his face. Pain stabbed him, stilling the cry in his throat and he closed his eyes in agony.
"Your thoughts to my thoughts ... now is the time of the awakening," Tuvok murmured as he pierced the younger man's mind. Down into the core he fell, finding and stroking awake the thing that he sought.
Tabor relaxed, his mind filling with information and passion. He sat and listened, then it all faded away. Tuvok stepped back, watching as Tabor slowly came to his senses. He had considered delivering a blow to the temple, inducing a coma that would allow their instructions to take root without danger of a struggle. However, that would involve the EMH and discovery, alerting Janeway and making things complicated. He had agreed with Chakotay, figuring out how to make the awakening happen without drawing attention to their efforts. When Tabor left, he wouldn't remember what they had done but the mere sound of the trigger expression,"Pok temphar potani" would awaken him immediately.
They would bring that trigger to the surface and at the right moment the ignition would be tripped, bringing them to the present where they would take over the ship. By the time the others caught on it would be too late. They would fly through the wormhole, controlled by the Maquis and then they would take care of what came next once they were through and on their way.
As he stood considering the complete changing of his life, the door chimed.
"Come."
The door opened and B'Elanna walked in, her dark eyes fastening upon him."You called for me?"
"Yes, Lieutenant. Please, sit down on the chair."
She paused and then moved, sitting on the chair before the desk. As Tuvok turned, he considered the eight who would come after her. He moved to stand behind her and in a lightning move, he began the same process on her.
*****Later that night...
Chakotay watched as the latest shift of conversions walked out the door. Tuvok sat on a box resting himself. He had only ten more to go. They had waited in a room, getting a fictitious briefing from himself while one by one they entered the Flyer to be manipulated by Tuvok. It had been the quickest way. Fifty conversions were accomplished, ten more coming and soon they would be ready, the trigger for their final step firmly in Tuvok's control. His voice would be the one that would make it happen, his tones and his manner having been the key element imparted into each of his crew by Anadis.
Chakotay turned, watching as Tuvok centered himself. He was tired, struggling with his own demanding set of obligations and clearly needing of rest. Chakotay sighed and waited, nodding when Tuvok looked up to him. Turning to a panel, he punched in the last order for the remaining Maquis. They would be here soon and then it would be complete. All they waited for were the exact instructions and the exact moment when Voyager would take the jump. Before that happened they would make their move and then the die would be cast. There would be no turning back from that moment until the deed was done. As he stood there, the door opened and Gregor Ayala, followed by Geron-Tem, stepped into the room. Walking up to their old Captain, Gregor paused.
"You wanted to see us, Chakotay?"
Chakotay nodded and turned, gesturing them to enter a small room off the main floor. "Greg, go in there and wait for me. I want to talk to you. Geron, come with me for a moment."
They hesitated and then Gregor entered the room, leaving them alone. Turning, Chakotay walked to the main hatch of the Flyer, turning and waiting for Geron to catch up. "Go inside. Tuvok wants to talk to you. Talk to him and obey him, Tem. Trust me."
For a moment Geron just stared at him and then he nodded, trust in his eyes. Chakotay watched as the young Bajoran turned and climbed up the steps to the hold. He disappeared inside, only to return slightly dazed a few minutes later. Chakotay would take him to one side as Gregor took his turn inside. Behind him, waiting patiently in the small room off the main one, eight other Maquis stood.
*****Elsewhere...
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I just have a headache," B'Elanna said, turning and dumping her dishes down the recycler.
"Do you want to go out or stay in?"
"I'm staying in," B'Elanna said, turning and looking at her husband. "You go out. Call Harry. I just want to take a long soak and go to bed."
Tom reached out and touched her head, feeling no rising warmth to indicate illness. "You're the dozenth or so person today who complained of headache," he said, puzzling at her curiously. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I'll be fine," she said, grinning broadly at him.
He nodded and grinned back, kissing her softly on the lips. "All righty, then," he said, turning and walking to the door. He paused and turned, eyeing her critically. "Comm me if you need me."
"I will," she said, smiling as he walked out the door.
As it shut she turned and walked to the bedroom, pausing before the door of her closet. Opening it, she bent down and took out a small box. Opening it, she pulled out a familiar and favorite garment. Turning, she walked to the mirror and held up the shirt, studying herself in the reflection. It had been a while since she had worn her Maquis leathers. It looked like she would still fit them if she ever had to wear them. For a moment she stared and then she frowned. Why would she think a thing like that she wondered? With a shake of her head, she turned and placed it back in the box. Pausing before her closet, she considered what to do. Then, without knowing why, she turned and put it on the dresser against the far wall. For some reason seeing it out gave her peace of mind. With that, she turned and walked to the bathroom to shower and prepare for bed.
=0=
Nuclear Winter (5/5) [Book One]
=0=
At the resort...
Tom nursed his drink waiting for Harry to arrive. The younger man hurried in, taking a drink and sitting in a chair opposite to Tom. "You look cheery. The old ball and chain let you out for the evening?"
Tom grinned. "Don't let her hear you calling her that. She'll decapitate you."
"That goes without saying, Tom," Harry said, admiring a very cleavage and ass-enhanced hologram that walked past, smiling at him as she did.
"She kicked me out."
"Trouble in paradise?" Harry asked.
"No, just a headache."
Harry considered Tom's words a moment. "Everyone seems to have headaches."
"Who else?"
Harry mentioned a number of people, rattling off names. Tom listened, matching them to the ones he already knew of himself. "That's strange. They all seem to be Maquis."
"You're Maquis," Harry reminded him.
"That's true. Must be something in environmental controls. I think we better let someone know."
"I already told Neelix. He told me he'd tell the Captain when she came in for her pie."
"Pie?"
"She hasn't been sleeping well lately. She comes in for late night pie and coffee and they talk together."
Tom nodded. "Well then, it's in good hands. So, what do you want to do?"
"Swim?" Harry asked, noting another ass and cleavage poster girl as she walked by, grinning at him broadly.
"Sure, if you can get your tongue back in your mouth," Tom said, rising.
"I can still look," Harry said haughtily, rising and finishing his drink.
"So can I, Harry. I'm just not allowed to lick," Tom said, moving toward the beach area beyond.
"You should have thought about that before you said, "I do."
"I did, Harry. I can still lick but my tongue's restricted."
"Too much information, Paris," Harry said, following along behind. "Way too much information."
*****Later that same night...
Chakotay stood by the window, Tabor asleep in the bed behind him. In less than two days they would have to take over the ship. They would be forced to do things that he never expected to do. They were a team, a group that had buried their differences but now it meant nothing. Things were as bad in the Federation as ever. The Frontier was still the whipping boy of people that didn't care one bit about them. Now, in the middle of all of that, another element had surfaced that ate at him night and day. This had been so shocking he had sat stunned for what seemed like days. It had been utterly and completely unexpected and he anguished over it every minute since. It had invaded his sleep and he found himself dreaming about things best not disturbed. He had come to Tabor's bed, the two of them making love nearly every night and it had helped, soothing his soul even as it underscored the futility of his true passion, the pilot of his ship, the man he wanted more than anyone else.
Tabor was soft and masculine, smaller than him and as pale as Tom. He had soft hair, thick and black, Bajoran hair. His body was muscular and lean, the peculiar Bajoran limitation of hair to the head making the rest of him appear to be indescribably smooth. Chakotay noted Tabor's cock, normal-sized and responsive, Bajoran cum smooth and oddly appealing in texture and flavor. He had been a man with men for most of his adult life and sleeping with Bajoran men was something he never regretted. He loved to feel the smoothness of their bodies sliding against his, the hairlessness of their balls appealing and odd at the same time. They were responsive lovers, the ridges of their noses sexual avenues of expression.
He stroked them, watching Tabor's eyes close in pleasure and he fucked him, watching him take all that Chakotay could give, moving backwards against him, driving him deeply. It had been amazing sex, amazingly relief inducing and they had taken to sleeping together each night since the first one. Chakotay stared at Tabor, imagining him Tom Paris. He imagined the blond lying beneath him, his arms and legs spread wide as he licked and bit every square inch of pale skin he could reach. He wanted to rub his face in the red curls of Tom's chest, feeling the silken fibers tickling him as he sucked Tom's nipples, biting and licking them, listening to Tom's groans and moans, the ones he knew he could coax given half a chance. He sighed, feeling an awful sense of betrayal of Tabor, thinking of another man as he was. Tom had been a long-time fantasy and Tabor was a kind and gentle reality. He was mercy fucking Chakotay, letting him take him, giving him gentleness and loving attention in return.
Chakotay walked back, sitting down beside the Bajoran, looking at him as he lay sprawled, his face turned toward Chakotay as he slept. Chakotay touched his smooth chest, stroking a nipple and watching it rise under his fingers. Dark lashes fluttered and dark eyes peered at him, strands of thick black hair cascading over a smooth forehead.
"Are you all right, Chakotay?" he whispered, stirring.
Chakotay put his hand on Tabor's heart. "Rest. I'm fine."
Tabor lay back and sighed, lacing his fingers through Chakotay's. "Sleep with me. You'll feel better."
Chakotay smiled and leaned down, kissing Tabor thoroughly on the lips. Sitting back up, he kissed Tabor's hand.
"Sleep. I'm right here."
Tabor nodded and yawned, closing his eyes and falling asleep once more. Chakotay sat beside him, watching him. Tomorrow or the next day, they would be home. Some of them would have homes and others like Tabor wouldn't. It would all fall back to him once more. He sighed and slipped into bed, pulling the shifting
figure of Tabor close into his arms. Tabor sighed deeply and fell asleep again. Chakotay lay a long time holding him before he too fell into sleep himself.
*****The next day, near to noon...
Chakotay stood in the conference room, looking outside the ship at the slowly emerging wormhole that would be taking them home. It would take another fifty minutes for the hole to fully develop and then it would be open for three days. It would be a leisurely trip home he door opened behind him and he noted Janeway's reflection on the glass.
"You're here early."
He turned and looked at her, aware in his mind that in ten minutes the ship would be locked out to her and the crew would be confined to their quarters. He waited here alone for her, prepared to take her into custody himself. As he stared at her, Tuvok's voice could be heard over the intercom.
"Pok temphar potani."
There was a pause and then he repeated himself. "The awakening is now. Pok temphar potani."
For a moment Janeway puzzled and then she looked at Chakotay, pausing with surprise at the phaser in his hand. "What's going on?"
Chakotay stared at her, a thousand moments coursing through him, a thousand shared dangers, a thousand happy times, all of it for nothing he thought bitterly. "You tell me, Kathryn."
She stared at him, her eyes darkening with injury. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do. You do. That wormhole was knowledge to you for months. You *knew* that the letters we got, the *Maquis got*, were lies. The cause is alive and well and you were fixing to deliver us to Star Fleet Penal the minute we returned."
"Is that what you think?" she whispered, oceans of hurt in her voice.
"Tell me otherwise."
She stared at him, swallowing her hurt. "I was ready to go to bat for you. I was preparing, for months and months, dossiers on each of you, your accomplishments, your efforts on behalf of this ship. How dare you ... how dare you believe ..." Her voice trailed off as tears welled in her eyes.
"I dare, Kathryn. I dare because nothing you can say or do will change anything. They told us our families and friends were slaughtered. You knew they weren't. You *knew*! You never said a word, you never corrected a single word of their lies. B'Elanna was hurting herself and you never said a word. You expect me to trust you? Trust is a two-way street, *Captain*."
She stood staring at him, her mind racing through scenarios of escape even while her senses told her it was futile. "What are you going to do?"
"We're taking over the ship. My first instinct is to dump you and the 'Fleet crew on a habitable planet but I feel they deserve to go home too. They earned it, just like we did. I won't be like Star Fleet. I won't imprison you now when we're this close to home. We're going through and when we get there, if we get past the gun boats waiting for us, then we'll see." He watched her eyes as they flinched at his assertion. "You know they're waiting don't you. You know they're there."
"I have no such knowledge."
"You just lied. I've read every message received by this ship since we first got them."
She stared at him. "You don't have the authorization."
The door opened and another joined them. "I do."
Kathryn turned and gazed with total amazement. "Tuvok..."
He stood before them, dressed in his Maquis uniform. Turning his gaze to Chakotay, he ignored her. "The ship is secure. Star Fleet personnel are locked in their quarters. The command codes are changed and we're ready for further orders."
Chakotay nodded and stepped toward Tuvok, his dark eyes fastened upon the Vulcan's face. "I need to trust you," he said softly. He held out his phaser. "It's armed and set to kill. If you really are with us, if I really can trust you, fire it. Against her." He turned, his dark eyes fixed on Janeway. Greg Ayala, armed and standing in the doorway, watched them. Janeway stiffened, her face a desolation of betrayal and emotion. "You wouldn't dare," she whispered, turning to Tuvok. "Tuvok ..."
The Vulcan stared at her, taking the phaser from his Captain. Turning, he pointed it at her and fired. It fizzled, sparking and shorting out. Tuvok lowered it and turned again, giving it to Chakotay. "Your phaser is malfunctioning," he said curtly.
Chakotay nodded and tossed it on the couch nearby. He nodded at Gregor. "Take her to the Brig."
She stared at them, her emotional devastation visible on her face. She turned and stepped past them, head held high and left the room in his company. Chakotay and Tuvok watched her go and then turned to face each other. "We have to be ready. The plan must be smooth and carefully executed."
Tuvok nodded. "We are ready."
Chakotay nodded and they turned, walking out onto the ridge. On the screen the steadily growing wormhole drew them, holding their eyes as they watched the portal of their salvation form before them.
In the Brig, sitting on a bench, Kathryn Janeway slumped. She was numbed with disbelief and rage, both at Star Fleet and at the Maquis. Her ship was taken over at both ends of the galaxy and she was a prisoner in her own Brig. In the next cell she heard footsteps and listened carefully. "Captain, are you there?"
"Seven?"
"I am here. Apparently I am not deemed trustworthy either."
Janeway sighed and walked to the barrier. "Can you break us out? Is there something in your implants that can be used to counter these barriers?"
"They are well aware of that, Captain. That is why I am wearing titanium restraints. My hands are cuffed behind my back."
Kathryn felt the last shred of hope in her heart melt away and she turned, walking to her bunk. She sat, leaning back. There was nothing else for her to do but sit here and wonder how it would all turn out.
*****On the Bridge...
"Status," Chakotay asked, moving to the command chairs.
"All of the 'Fleet are locked in their quarters," B'Elanna said, turning to him. "Paris and Kim tried to make a break for it but we have them locked up safe and sound."
Chakotay stared at her a moment, the emotional disconnection in her statement odd to his ears. He turned and glanced at Tuvok.
"What is the status of the wormhole?"
"We can send in the first probe, Captain," Tuvok said, his voice smooth.
Chakotay paused, the sound of that word music to his ears. "If we do that, they will know we're coming."
"We can put a message with it that can mislead them. We can say that we won't be coming until the last day and leave the minute that it looks stable enough to take us through safely."
Chakotay nodded, turning to face the screen. "Launch the first probe. Add the message. Make sure to key in Janeway's codes."
Tuvok nodded. "Underway."
Chakotay stood and watched, noting the burst of speed blasting toward the growing mouth of the wormhole. It was the probe, heading back to their home and they waited for the echo that it would send. It might take seconds or hours, wormholes working on their own peculiar physics, time not being a consideration. He didn't know how long had actually passed but Tuvok's voice broke the silence.
"It's through. It exited in the Alpha Quadrant. The probe indicates that it is wide and stable and we should get through easily."
Chakotay sighed, oddly more tense than before. Turning, he stared at them, at the familiar faces that were his burden to carry now. "Open a ship-wide channel."
"Open," Tuvok stated, moving his hand.
"This is Captain Chakotay, assuming command of Voyager. In a couple of minutes we will be entering a wormhole that will take us home to the Alpha Quadrant. When we get there we will search out a suitable location for any 'Fleet crew that want to leave us. We will signal your location to Star Fleet so they can retrieve you. You may not know it but the Maquis on this ship were deceived. For over a year we have been receiving mail along with you that have been forgeries. The Federation told us that the Maquis cause and thousands of our friends and family were killed in the war. It was a lie." Chakotay paused, clearing his throat. "We were lied to. As a consequence, waiting at the other end to take us into custody as prisoners of war will be Federation war ships. We are to be taken to prison camps in Arizona and Kansas. That will be our homecoming to Earth if we don't make a break for it."
He sighed and looked at the screen. "The Federation is still at war with our mothers and fathers, our sisters and brothers and friends. We cannot go with you. We won't be taken prisoner. We're going in now. Buckle down for a rough ride. I will give you further information when it's available. Chakotay out." Turning, walking to his seat, he sat down, gripping the armrests in his hands."Helmsman, take us in."
The helmsman nodded and turned, moving her fingers across the panel. Voyager moved forward, edging toward the lip of the anomaly. As she did, Chakotay reflected on the biggest news, information he hadn't shared with anyone but Tuvok. His father, Kolopak of Dorvan V, was a prisoner of war, held in special detention at the Federation Prison Camp outside of Sedonia in Arizona. The Cardassians hadn't killed him. They took him prisoner, exchanging him early on in the war for prisoners of their own. He was placed in solitary, held incognito so as not to be a rallying point for the resistance.
The belief that he was killed was disseminated throughout the quadrant. For more than nine years, he had been held a prisoner, persona non grata even to his family. The only reason anyone had found out at all happened when the leaders of a growing anti-war movement wormed the information out of lower level officials in the Penal System. Making it known to the general public had led to their arrest. Among those imprisoned was a leader of a faction of dissidents from Vulcan, Tuvok's son, Sek.
Chakotay sighed and closed his eyes, unwilling to consider failure as Voyager was caught in the time eddy that flowed around the mouth of the monster before them. With a low voice, he chanted his death song softly as Voyager slipped forward into time.
TBC Book Two c2000/2010
This story is actually finished but I have to reformat it and post it. That is slow work with other things going on but I shall hurry along with it. I am also working on another segment of The Interrogation. I am checking information to keep the reality I have chosen for the story intact. Thank you for your patience.