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Nuclear Winter (1/5) [Book Two]
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The wormhole swallowed them even as it swallowed everything else that strayed past its event horizon. Into the distortion of the fabric of space the small gleaming ship fell, moving with incomprehensible speed along the twisting corridor of its utterly alien dimensions. Were they flying? Were they actually moving? Could one even use normal frames of reference in a situation where it was possible to move across the spectrum of time from the beginning of all things until the end? Was the mind capable of processing the visual information that formed there, a picture of a winding tunnel leading from one moment in the river of all existence to another?
He didn't think about it. He chanted the patterns of his own agony over and over, softly repeating in the distortion the death chant of his ancestors. It comforted him to attach to the unreality around them something of the familiar, something that connected him to what was important and old and family.
His father came to his mind, filling him with passion and aching pain. He had to survive, he had to go back to the stars of his ancestors and he *had* to find his father and rescue him. For him there was no other way. They moved on, slipping like a leaf along a rapidly rushing waterway, floating through the beginning and the ending, hurtling along a path that only God could create. From the ends of a desolate road they hurtled toward the fires of home, toward the open arms of loved ones.
For some, the ending would be short. For others, like Chakotay himself, the path was only beginning. He would bear the burden of the next step, pulling the ship from the grasp of the enemy, turning her toward the safety of Maquis-held space. A small map, some hurried notes hidden deep in code, that was their light through the darkness ahead and he sat in his chair, wrapped in the warmth and protection of a thousand generations of ancestors, hurtling toward a fight that could be his last.
Tuvok watched his board, the figure of his son coming to him unbidden. Even as he was awakened, the message that Anadis sent making him move through the long ago steps of another man's vengeance, he struggled to keep his center. His son, the small boy longed for and much missed, the accomplished musician, the handsome, strong son of his people, he was locked up now, like some kind of animal, and it made his blood run cold. The child he held in his arms, the child he watched take his first step, the child who went into the desert to attain his manhood, this boy was caged and he had to free him. He shoved back the emotion that filled him and concentrated on the ride through and the breakout after. Nothing could be accomplished if he failed now.
B'Elanna watched the panel before her, the information streaming past her eyes, moving through her analytical mind and sorting itself into a thousand succinct engineering statements. They were on track. Voyager was in good shape. It had only been fifteen seconds but ship standard time indicated that three hours had passed. She couldn't tell herself, the feeling of a long time moving in tandem with the thought of a few brief seconds. It was all relative she thought grinning briefly at the idea of Einstein and his ilk actually making a small appearance in her mind. It was fitting she thought before she closed her mind to distractions. Only the moment and the mission mattered. Nothing else in the universe came close.
The passage wasn't missed by everyone, all those with windows looking at the whirling colors and odd unexplainable distortions flashing past. Tom and Harry stood looking, noting that they were moving through a wormhole but utterly without hope of affecting any changes to the plan put in motion.
Tom stared, his mind in a whirl. They had been locked up and B'Elanna was some place, working for the Maquis. He considered what Chakotay had said over the comm system, he considered how pained the older man's voice had been. They had been deceived. That was clear. If they had deceived the Maquis, having a prison party waiting for them, what did it all mean for him? Would he go to prison too? Turning, he sat, watching the parade from a more comfortable place. He sighed, drawing Harry's attention. The younger man rose and walked to a chair, flinging himself back into it too. "Harry, if they lied to the Maquis, I wonder if they lied to me too."
"Your father wrote to you. He wrote you letters."
Tom snorted, shaking his head. "My father ... the inimitable Admiral Paris ... he wrote them didn't he ... and we *all* know that *he* would never lie."
"You won't go to prison, Tom. You *won't*. It would never happen. Your father, he would never let it happen."
"Why not? We didn't actually leave on glowing terms."
"Tom, he won't let you go back to prison. If you're worried about it, go with the Maquis."
Tom was silent a moment. "I don't know if they would take me."
"Your *wife* is a Maquis. What are you saying?"
"Who do you think ordered the lockdown when we tried to break out?"
There was silence a moment.
"You know, Tom, there were plenty of times I was really scared. There were times I was mad. It was part of the trip. But this ... I'm scared, Tom. I mean, I'm really scared down deep. I don't want to die, not this close to home. I want to go to the beach and stick my feet in the Pacific. I want to hug my parents and see my home."
Tom reached over and took Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly. He sighed deeply, holding Harry's hand in his. "We will, Harry. No one deserves it more than us."
Harry tightened his grip on Tom's hand. "You sound like an optimist," he said, swallowing hard.
"There's always a first time, Har."
They sat together, going through the endless stream of timelessness as they waited to return to their home.
**********Far away...
The desert sun was astonishingly hot and it burned down equal time on the men and women that toiled in the huge vegetable garden and those watching them do the work. They moved along the rows, hoeing and turning the soil, pulling weeds and tending the little green shoots. One of them paused, wiping sweat from his eyes. His long gray hair was tied back, pulled from his handsome face. It was past his shoulders now, slightly curly and thick. It was beautiful, like he was elegant and distinguished, something imprisonment couldn't destroy.
Kolopak of Dorvan V, a scholar and historian, folklorist and paleo-anthropologist toiled alongside his companions, the leadership of the Maquis and other political prisoners of the Rebellion. They had been gathered here, hidden in the desert of his wife's ancestors against the time when they either died or were necessary for some purpose or other. None of them were known to be alive. All of them were said to be killed, some of them years before in the war that had finished for everyone but them.
Kolopak had been captured and held by the Cardassians. He had been kept with surprisingly good care by the Gul, Dukat. The Cardassian had pretensions of civility, of great and noble intensions and he had treated Kolopak with something bordering on reverence, one 'peer' to another. He sighed, remembering the long rambling monologues he had endured even as he waited to die. Every night he had prayed to the spirits to have the strength and resolve to meet his life as a warrior if that was to come. Every day was a new one to endure, the tension of his captivity alleviated only by memories of his wife and children.
Behind himself he could hear the guards talking, bored and hot, standing around together. Around them the desert loomed, blocking them from even the attempt to hope. For nine years he had endured this place, working to produce his own food even as he labored in secret to write the memoirs of his captivity. Someday, he hoped, his wife and children would know where he was and what had happened to him. Sighing with tedium, he turned and bent to his task.
*****Monterey, California...
John Kim walked to his desk, noting the ocean breakers beyond his window. He was a much in demand botanical architect, someone that people sought out for the perfection of his landscapes. His knowledge of flowers was encyclopedic and his ability to make things grow together was remarkable. He stared at the ocean, wondering once again what was happening with Harry, his only child. They had received no word of him, their enquiries meeting with polite letters of sympathy. Some place in this universe was his beloved son and he had no information about where and what was happening to him.
It shook his faith. It made him weak. His wife had been made frail from the burden of the uncertainty and he had become closer to her from it. He had turned to her in his desolation and they were more of a couple than ever before. It hadn't been so for others who had children and friends on the Voyager. The Ayalas had divorced, the stress of losing their son undoing rather than cementing their ties. Others had too, some separating to grieve in isolation. They kept in touch, this association of mourners and dared to believe, at least among themselves, that they would see their loved ones again. He sat and sighed, looking at the work on his desk. When he was finished he would leave here and go home, taking his wife for a walk along the beach. The same beach, he thought, that his son had taken his first step.
*****On the edge of secured Federation space...
They sat waiting, the message of the arrival of their quarry being received. The probe from Voyager, traversing thirty-five thousand light years - an unbelievable distance to all involved - had arrived twenty-five seconds after it was sent. The message had Janeway's codes and it said that they would be coming at the end of the hole's cycle rather than right away. It had been disconcerting to the three ships that were waiting. They had hoped to make the strike and leave before the rim found out they were here.
They were part of the special deep space reconnaissance group that carried out covert operations along this, the most dangerous part of space in the quadrant. They were fast, competent and prepared to do anything they were told to. As it was, given Janeway's message, they had two and a half days of waiting ahead of them and except for deep sensor sweeps, they stood down their vigilance a notch or two. The crews relaxed, returning to a different mindset, one that would allow them to divert themselves. At the moment of contact they would be ready. Of course, they weren't.
*****On the Bridge...
They came out of the wormhole twenty-five seconds after they went in, flying out like a frisbee. From the kaleidoscope, they emerged and slipped through the net like a fish through a straw. Chakotay was on his feet and at the conn before anyone moved. The pilot rose and made room for him. Calling out to Tuvok, the two men punched in the pre-arranged coordinates and before the other ships could react, Voyager streaked to warp.
It took them three minutes to assimilate and plot the course that Voyager took, their brief hesitation just that. By the time they moved to follow her, they were dangerously close to the point of no return, the active front beyond which they would not be able to follow. Voyager, herself, would be halfway to the safety of Maquis country. Chakotay sat, his fingers flying across the board. Behind him, Tuvok and B'Elanna gave him all that they could, shields raised behind and warp engines working at one hundred and five percent. Behind them, in hot pursuit, three Federation war ships followed.
"Voyager, this is Captain Silva of the Federation Star Ship Carroway. We order you to halt."
Chakotay ignored them, following with machine-like precision the course that his people had sent to him in a coded letter. They zoomed ahead, the gap between them widening as he punched her up. The ships behind, fully capable of matching her in speed stepped it up too.
"Voyager, if you don't stand down we will be forced to fire on you."
"Tuvok, shields?"
"At one hundred percent," the deceptively calm voice replied.
The blow that rocked them followed the flash of light behind them and Tom and Harry hurried to the window to watch. They could see the energy arc off the shields and they knew they were being pursued by Federation ships.
"Chakotay was right. They intend to arrest us."
Tom glanced at Harry, gripping the wall as he did, the flash of energy that followed blinding.
"We didn't *do* anything!" Harry cried, his face filled with an agony of anxiety and rage. "We're not *criminals*!"
"Tell that to them," Tom said, barely staying on his feet as the ship rocked again.
As they flashed through the night, three ships in pursuit, the message to the Maquis that Tuvok had sent upon their re-entry was received. Ships launched, heading into the night as Voyager edged closer to the line that divided safety from capture.
"Shields?" Chakotay called out, flying in a maddeningly random pattern, missing some hits and taking others. Around him the ozone smell of burning circuits filled the air.
"Holding!" Tuvok answered, his fingers flying as they brought phasers to bear. "Phasers on line!"
"Fire at will!" Chakotay hollered, moving slightly to miss a bright bolt of energy.
The ship shuddered, a bolt of energy generated by Voyager streaking out to meet a target. It hit the lead ship, splintering hull as it pierced the shields of the small fast destroyer. More bolts met them and Chakotay angled to miss them, mostly succeeding.
"We're venting plasma!" B'Elanna cried out, working to seal the leak and reroute energy away from the hit. "They're trying to target our nacelles!"
As they did, bolts flashed toward them out of the darkness ahead and streaked past them, hitting targets beyond. Maquis fighters, ten of them flashing past, headed for the three ships that chased Voyager, engaging them in a furious fight until they pulled back, one of them venting plasma of its own from a damaged warp nacelle. Voyager streaked on, followed by the fighters flying escort for her as they disappeared into Maquis territory. Onward and swiftly, they dashed toward the sanctuary of a base that was expecting them safety just kilometers away.
Chakotay rose and handed over the conn to his pilot, rushing to the ops station to check ship's status. He noted that they had taken hits but nothing too deadly. Obviously the 'Fleet ships had orders to take them with as little destruction as possible. He turned and looked at Tuvok, the Vulcan raising his head to meet Chakotay's glance. "We made it."
"Yes, Captain, we did," Tuvok said, releasing a deeply held breath.
In the Brig, Kathryn Janeway stopped pacing, listening to the great heart of her ship. They were running smoothly, heading in a straight line for a destination she didn't know. Her ship had held, Chakotay bringing her through and now they were most likely deep in Maquis territory. She sighed and stood, dejected and enraged. What would happen next she didn't know. Chakotay said he would let them off but she didn't trust his word. He was different, a man she couldn't read and he had convinced Tuvok, *her* Tuvok, to go along with him.
What incomprehensible thing could make Tuvok do this? She had no idea. Sitting down on the bench, staring at the floor, she found herself joyless. She had known they would return for more than a year. Yet sitting here, finally in their own quadrant, she had no pleasure, no joy, no hope. She was a prisoner in her own Brig, held captive on her own ship. She was held by the people that she had grown to love, even cherish. Betrayed from all sides, returned to god knew what, Kathryn didn't stop the tears that slid from her eyes. She sat in her Brig and cried without a sound.
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Nuclear Winter (2/5) [Book Two]
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Chakotay moved to the conn, turning to sit once more. He checked the space around them and noted that all ten of the fighters had made it back with them. Relaxing slightly, he opened a comm channel. "This is Captain Chakotay. We made it back to the Alpha Quadrant." He paused, swallowing hard. "We made it back." For a moment he sat quietly, thinking about the magnitude of what had happened. Then he opened the channel again. "We made it back. For the Maquis crew among us, we're going to a place where we'll be safe. If there are those among you in the 'Fleet crew who have relationships with Maquis, you may come with us. For those among the 'Fleet crew who wish to stay with us, you're welcomed. The rest of you will be sent down to a safe place with a beacon set to the Federation side of the DMZ. The Maquis will guarantee the safety of any ship that comes for you." He paused again, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. "This isn't the way I wanted us to return home. I wanted us to come home to peace together but the Federation won't allow it to happen. So ... this is the best we can do. I wish you all the best of luck."
He switched off the comm system, staring at the screen in front of him. Sighing deeply, he rose and turned, walking to the lift.
"Tuvok, you have the conn."
He entered and rode the lift to the Brig, stepping out and walking down the corridor to the door of the Brig. Entering, he walked to the cell that held Janeway. She sat on the bench, her head hanging as she awaited whatever would come. He stood in front of her, staring at her, wondering how fate could have such a sense of humor. "Kathryn, we made it."
She didn't move for a moment and then her head raised, her eyes staring at him with an unreadable expression. "So ... we're back in the Alpha Quadrant ..."
"Yes," Chakotay said, nodding. "I'm going to let you off with the rest of the 'Fleet crew that requests it. We will make sure that the Federation picks you up."
She stared at him, biting her lip. "So, this is how it ends?"
He stared at her, considering her situation. He was sure if the situation were reversed, he would be dulled with rage too. However, he couldn't consider it. She had betrayed him, all of them and now they were as outcast as they were in the Delta. Only this time they had made their own move and they would avoid the fate that she knew awaited them. "We will send for you when it's time."
He turned to go and she rose, moving to the barrier. "What about all the times we worked together? What about all the dangers we went through? You were my right arm! You were my rock! I thought we were friends!"
Chakotay paused, turning slowly, his own eyes glittering. He stepped back, moving slowly to stand in front of her. He considered her, pondering her point of view. "You were never my friend or you would have told me that you knew my father was alive."
She stared at him, her face paling. The last secret she held, the final particle of her knowledge, he knew. She blinked, lowering her eyes with a flicker of shame and distress. "I couldn't. I didn't know how. How could I tell you out there, alone and lost? What would it have done to you to know that was so?"
"They *told* you and you never said a word. You never told Tuvok that his son was in prison trying to free the dissidents. They *told* you that!"
"*And it was my burden*! *I carried it alone*! How could I tell you? How could I tell a father that his son, his wonderful son was in prison! You tell me how?"
He stared at her, his insides filled with a cold sick feeling of despair. "You open your mouth, Kathryn, and you say it."
They stared at each other, the chasm between them wide and unbridgeable. He turned and silently walked to where Seven stood, her hands manacled behind her, her back rigid with dignity. "Seven, we want you to know that you can stay with us if you choose. The Federation in my opinion can't be trusted to let you live normally. You're Borg. They might just dismantle you to find out how you tick. The Federation, if I still am correct, are not at peace with the Borg."
She stood a long time staring at him, her emotions moving across her face. "May I have time to think on it?"
Chakotay nodded. "Of course." He nodded to her and then turned and walked to the door, leaving them behind alone. Kathryn turned and walked stiffly to the bench, sitting down on the pad. She sat back her face filled with sorrow and stared into the foreground, lost in thought.
*****Down the corridor...
The door opened and he stepped inside, noting the two men that slowly rose and faced him. Moving to stand before them, he paused. "We're home."
Harry's face crumpled and then he pulled himself together, nodding. Tom glanced at Harry and then back at Chakotay. "Wild ride."
Chakotay nodded, sighing wearily. "We're safe now. I'm prepared to set you down someplace where the Federation can pick you up if that's what you want."
Harry glanced at Tom and nodded. "I *have* to see my parents."
Chakotay nodded and reached out, squeezing Harry's shoulder.
"I know."
"What about you? What about the Maquis?" Tom asked, his face carefully schooled to hide his growing unease. "We're stuck here. We're Maquis. There's no choice for us. We have to stay and fight."
"And B'Elanna? Is she stuck too?" Tom asked.
Chakotay stared at him, memorizing his features for all the days ahead when he wouldn't be able to see Tom, when he would be all alone with nothing but memories. "I can't speak for her. You'll have to. If you stay, I could use a pilot."
"You want me to fly Voyager? To be a Maquis again?" Tom asked, incredulity filling his voice in spite of things.
"Why not? What happens to you now? Prison?"
Tom paused, his face forming a cold mask. "Prison? Well, I don't know. You seem to have all the answers. Why don't you tell me?"
Chakotay stared at him, his face a mask too. Inside, he wanted to scream, to release the misery that formed a pool of pain in his chest. Instead, he reached inside his shirt and pulled out a small padd, holding it out to the pilot. Tom hesitated and took it, watching as Chakotay turned without a word and walked from the room. They stared at the door and then each other. Finally, Tom stared at the padd, opening it and reading it. When he was done, he tossed it on the table, turning and walking to the window, rubbing his face as he coaxed feeling back into it.
"What did it say?" Harry asked, picking it up and turning to Tom.
"It says that I'm going back to prison. Apparently the Penal code doesn't allow time off to Maquis traitors for good behavior."
"Your father!" Harry exclaimed, searching the padd for information. "*Surely*, your father can do something."
"No, Harry, he can't. Apparently when it comes to Maquis, the normal laws don't apply. I'm to go to Auckland and finish out my sentence."
Harry stared at Tom, at the lanky man standing next to the window, his face pale and his manner stiff. He stared at the man he loved like the brother he never had, like the best friend he would ever know and he felt his heart break. Turning, he sat slowly, staring at the damning document in his hand. "This was addressed to Captain Janeway."
Tom turned and leaned against the wall, licking his dry lips.
"She knew about this three months ago, Tom."
Harry looked up and met Tom's eyes. "How could she know about this and not tell us? How could she *do this* to us? We're ... we were a family. *Weren't we*?"
Tom sighed and walked over, sitting down and gently taking the padd from Harry's hand. He stared at it, at the address of the recipient and felt his heart break. "I guess we weren't really, Harry."
They sat together quietly for a moment and then a hand gripped Tom's arm gently. Tom looked up and met dark eyes, eyes filled with torment and emotion. "I'm staying."
"Harry," Tom began.
"No. I'm staying. I can't go, Tom. How can I go when you can't? How can *any* of us go?"
Tom glanced away, tears stinging his eyes. "I don't know, Harry. I really don't know."
*****On the Bridge...
"A message is coming in for you, Captain," the Ops Officer said, glancing over at the Captain's chair where Chakotay sat. He nodded and rose. "Send it to my Ready Room."
He walked slowly across the room, entering Janeway's office. Sitting down heavily in her chair, he rubbed his face. Then with a deep sigh, he reached over and hit the comm button. A familiar face filled the small screen. As he stared tears slipped from his eyes, rolling down his face unashamedly. "Hello, Chakotay," a soft familiar voice said.
Chakotay reached out and touched the screen, momentarily speechless. "Bey ..." he whispered softly. "Beyvahl ..."
*****A short time later…
They slipped into port, the secured base filled with ships and activity. Refugees had made this their staging point, a jumping off place for other, more secure locations. All kinds of aliens traveled in and out of here, escorted by fighters or not. Voyager hove into port, her gleaming white hull a beacon for every eye around. They pulled into their slot, shutting down all non-essential systems. As they did, four Maquis beamed aboard. Met at the transporter room by security and Tuvok, they exchanged greetings and followed the party to the Bridge. Stepping onto the Bridge, Beyvahl of Dorvan V, Intelligence Chief of the Maquis and a member of the Revolutionary Council, surveyed the place his younger brother had served all these long lost years. Turning, he followed Tuvok across and into a room where a tall man was standing, staring out the window at the activity all around them. Turning, he paused, a look of intense emotion filling his face. "Hello, Chakotay."
Chakotay stared at him, at the beloved older brother of his growing up, the oldest sibling in his family and then he covered the distance between them, throwing his arms around Bey's neck and holding him. They stood together, holding each other and no one moved in the room. For an eternity they stood, their arms tightly holding and then Chakotay stepped back, staring with anguish at his brother. "Bey, you're alive. Mama? The others?"
"Everyone is fine. Chakotay, everyone is fine."
"Papa ..." Chakotay couldn't finish. He stopped, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.
"We know. The resistance on Earth, aided by the anti-war movement found out where he is. We don't dare tell the media. They could move him. He's there with all the others."
"My son ..." Tuvok ventured, stopping short of more.
"He tracked the information down, finding the camp. They arrested him and tried him in a drumhead court. He's imprisoned there as well," Bey said, staring at Tuvok with compassion. Tuvok nodded, swallowing around the pain in his heart. "We have to talk, Chakotay. There is much to do. This ship will be helpful."
"We have to get Papa out of prison. We have to get Sek."
"We will," Bey said soothingly.
"We have a lot of 'Fleet people that we have to take care of. I said they would be let off and the Federation allowed to come to get them."
Bey nodded. "There's a mining camp on the Federation side of the DMZ that we can drop them off at. The Federation will be able to come get them there."
Chakotay nodded, suddenly weary beyond comprehension. "You look terrible. Right now, let's eat and talk," Bey said, turning and including Tuvok. "Then we can take the 'Fleet crew away and get the Federation to take them off our hands."
Chakotay nodded and turned, staring outside once more. It had been seven years lost and two years before that. Nine years was a long time to be alone. He turned and smiled. "It's good to see you again."
Bey smiled and squeezed Chakotay's arm. "It's good to see you too. Lead us to a place to eat around here."
Chakotay nodded and turned, the crowd following behind. They went to the Mess Hall, sitting and eating replicated food as they spent the next four hours talking strategy and catching up on news.
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Nuclear Winter (3/5) [Book Two]
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First Officer's Cabin, late that night...
He came in, tired and filled with images of things that had changed, things that hadn't and all the myriad responsibilities that once had been his and were again. It was dark and he stood for a moment, shadows caused by the weak light of the window casting long pools of gray before his feet. He sighed and walked to a chair, sitting and pulling boots and socks off.
Rising, he tossed his vest and other things on the chair, turning and walking toward the bedroom. He paused in the doorway, unbuttoning his shirt as his eyes took in the feast laid out on his bed. The starlight from the window above the bed showered its weak glow over Tabor. The younger man was sleeping, lying naked on the bed, his arms sprawled and his legs slightly spread. He was pale and soft looking, shaped by the dimness, his head turned away from Chakotay.
The light rounded his contours, his smooth chest and his legs. His cock lay flaccid against his thigh, his hairless balls as well, and Chakotay flashed on the taste and texture of them both, his lips and tongue lingering over their smooth silken surfaces. He shifted, leaning against the doorjamb, his eyes lingering over Tabor's body.
He was compact, his muscular body smooth and light, typical of Bajoran men. They were an interesting species, the Bajorans. The women were stronger than the men, their evolution making it so and the average Bajoran woman could out lift, outlast and out punch their men. It was a fact not lost on Chakotay. He knew he was stronger than Tabor and that fact was a tease in his mind that amused him some times.
His dark hair, thick, black and soft as silk spilled over his face, obscuring his features. Chakotay looked up the curve of his neck, yearning to nuzzle that soft silk and up to the side of Tabor's face. He had a handsome face, even beautiful, and soft lips. His dark eyes were kind and gentle, eyes that told much about his interior. He remembered when they were filled with rage, the day he told Chakotay in his office that the Cardassian doctor that could save B'Elanna from an alien parasite was the same one who killed his grandfather, his only remaining relative from the Cardassian occupation of his planet.
He had eyes that reflected everything, his quiet nature, his anger and his passion. Chakotay sighed, remembering dark eyes smoky with passion. He considered the kindness of Tabor, his willingness to give tenderness to Chakotay and he felt warmth. It wasn't the same as he felt about Tom, the fiery passion that ignited in him when he didn't guard himself. This was gentle and kind, soft and tender. It saved him now, with all his turmoil and he felt an intense gratitude toward Tabor, a different kind of love.
He turned and walked out, moving silently so as not to disturb Tabor. He pushed the ottoman against the couch and flopped, stretching out his legs. He closed his eyes, fully intending to just rest and drifted off to sleep. It was quiet in the room when he jerked awake. He didn't know how long he had lain there but he felt someone else nearby. Looking up he noted a pale figure, half covered in a white robe.
"Hi."
"Hi," Chakotay murmured, his eyes focusing slowly in the dim light.
Tabor stood before him, naked but for a robe that hung open on his body. His hair was sleep tousled, falling across his forehead boyishly. Chakotay sighed, drawn by his exotic beauty and he reached out, reaching inside Tabor's robe, resting his hand on his smooth hairless thigh. Tabor smiled and moved closer, his cock brushing against the back of Chakotay's hand.
"Come here," Chakotay whispered.
The younger man smiled and moved carefully, straddling Chakotay and leaning forward, pressing his mouth against the older man's. Chakotay slipped his hands inside Tabor's robe, gripping his ass as he pulled him closer, deepening the kiss lingeringly. Tabor sighed, his eyes half open as he gazed at Chakotay, his libido rising to the care Chakotay was giving to his ass. "You have nice hands," he said, smiling.
"You have a nice ass," Chakotay replied, nuzzling Tabor's neck.
The younger man grinned and slipped his fingers through Chakotay's hair, holding him as he sucked the soft skin of his neck. He knew he would have marks there the next day. Of course, most of the times they were together he had a mark some place. Chakotay sat back, looking at Tabor as he rubbed the younger man's thighs with his hands. "You look tired," Tabor said, sighing.
"I feel old."
"You don't look it. You don't act it. It's a state of mind, Chakotay."
"My mind is old then," Chakotay said, grinning broadly. He stared at Tabor, noting how his robe had slipped off one shoulder. He reached up and pushed the other side back, revealing his chest and its smooth muscular contours. He reached up and stroked dark nipples, watching as Tabor's pleasure played across his face. "That feels good," he said, looking at Chakotay with affection. He had not fallen into men before, the idea of loving a man outside of his natural inclination. However, a quiet man with little confidence in others intentions -a typical Bajoran Maquis trait brought about by the war and occupation- he still gave himself to Chakotay. Tabor trusted him, he liked and respected him and he thought him beautiful, physically and spiritually. There were no taboos among the Bajorans regarding men together, or women. Love was never in such abundance that one kind or the other was considered off the righteous path.
When Chakotay came to him, needy and distressed, his natural decency had taken over and he had given himself to the older man, finding in doing so that he enjoyed it. Chakotay was private and dignified, a lot like himself and he enjoyed being with him, making love and talking together afterwards. He would not turn him away and after a while had taken to coming to his bed, waiting for him to love him or just hold him. It helped both of them right now.
He had no home of his own to go to. On Voyager he had friends, almost a family of people that he had met, not only in the Maquis but among the 'Fleet people. They were his family now and he was glad to have the decision of what to do after Voyager put off, even under their current circumstances. Later, he would decide what to do.
Later.
He kissed Chakotay, savoring the sweetness of his lips over and over and then he sat back, staring at the flushed face of his lover. "Come to bed. Let me rub your back."
Chakotay smiled, nodding. Tabor rose and extended his hand, taking Chakotay's and pulling him to his feet. They walked together, pausing beside the bed. Tabor stilled Chakotay's hands, unbuttoning the shirt he wore and pushing it off his broad shoulders. It pooled at his feet, followed by his pants and shorts and when he was naked, Tabor moved to hold him. Chakotay's hands roamed Tabor's back, his body molded against him and he felt desire rising amid the ashes of his emotional disarray. Moving slowly, he lay down on the sheets, pulling Tabor into him as he kissed his shoulder, his neck and his chin. He kissed Tabor's soft lips, sucking and savoring them, feeling intense pleasure at the soft sounds he coaxed from the quiet man beside
him. "You're beautiful," Chakotay said, brushing Tabor's hair from his eyes.
Tabor smiled and sighed. "But I'm not Tom."
For a moment Chakotay paused, his eyes searching Tabor's face for hurt. Tabor leaned forward and kissed him. Then he smiled.
"It's okay. For now it's what we both need. It doesn't have to be more."
"I don't want to hurt you or use you. You mean too much to me for that."
"I know," Tabor said, sliding his leg over Chakotay's hip, moving closer to his warm body. "You aren't. We're friends, Chakotay. I would never do this if we weren't and I know you would never hurt me. For now, it's what we have and all that we need."
Chakotay nodded, pulling Tabor closer. "You're beautiful and kind. I love you."
"I know," Tabor said, smiling again. "I know."
Chakotay rolled over, staring down at the beautiful face and gentle eyes that looked up at him. He shifted, his leg moving between Tabor's and he watched as the dark eyes closed in pleasure. He sighed and leaned down, kissing softly along Tabor's collarbone, rising to his neck and then his lips, kissing him with increasing passion. Tonight they would make love and lay together, talking and relaxing. Tomorrow would bring its own problems. For now what they had was all they both needed.
*****Next day, hangar deck...
They stood together, all ninety of them, surrounded as they were by armed Maquis. It was a very strange thing, standing on one side of an invisible barrier, facing friends and colleagues who were prepared to shoot you. They stood ilently, the tension very high as the door opened and Tuvok entered, followed by Chakotay, Greg Ayala and Ken Dalby. They stopped and surveyed the crowd, Chakotay's face filled with tension and emotion. He stepped forward, standing before them. "This isn't the way I hoped it would be when we got back. It isn't the way I wanted us to end. However, that decision and choice was taken away from us by a Federation-Star Fleet deception. They told us that the Maquis were finished, that they were over. Thousands of our friends and family and neighbors were supposed to be dead or in prisons.
"They aren't. They're here and they're fighting for the same thing that they fought the Cardassians for, their homes, their planets, their cultures and families and rights. The Federation revoked our citizenship. They put our people in prison without trial and we all exist out here under martial law. My own home world, Dorvan V, is a staging area for Federation troops and my mother is under house arrest in our family home. My sisters and brothers-in-law and all of our children are on the run, one step ahead of disappearing into the prison camps of the Federation penal system.
"You have a choice. The Maquis don't. However, knowing that, I want you to know that you're welcome to stay with us. Some of you have friendships and relationships, a few of you are married to Maquis. We hope you stay. You're welcome. If you don't want to go back, if you're Star Fleet people who want to stay, I will be personally grateful.
"If you have to go, I will understand. I wish you well. I hope you get home to your families and loved ones. A Federation ship will get you and take you home. We have arranged it. Talk it over and make up your mind. If I never see you again, I want you to know that I was proud to serve with you. I wish you all a good life wherever you go." Chakotay swallowed hard and turned, walking away from the group and out the door, followed by a tense and hard-looking Tuvok. The group stood quietly for a moment and then turned to each other, tears and crying heard here and there. For a half hour they talked and then Greg stepped forward. "If you have to go, come here please."
Joe Carey stepped forward, anguish on his face. "I don't want to go, Greg, but I have to. I have a wife and two kids. I have to see them. If it wasn't for that, I would stay."
"I'm staying."
Everyone turned, staring with shock and surprise at Harry Kim. Harry sighed and stepped forward, his own face equally anguished.
"Tom is going to go to prison if he goes back. I can't go back to my life knowing that. His own father, *an admiral in Star Fleet* ... he can't get the ruling changed. If *he* can't, what does it mean for the rest of us? You *know* me. You know what I want more than anything. But I tell you know, I'm staying."
They stood quietly and then, slowly and hesitantly, people stepped toward Greg until forty people stood with him.
Nodding to the ones who would be staying, Greg turned and escorted them out of the hangar deck. Ken Dalby stood watching, his rifle lowered. He turned to the others, his eyes red with unshed tears. He shifted his feet and cleared his throat. "You can go," he said, his voice hoarse. "Thanks for staying." The poignancy of his remarks cut like a knife and they began to move, walking slowly toward the door. Tom, standing stiffly nearby moved past Harry and hurried off, heading down the corridor to the lift. He entered and turned his heart pounding. "Engineering."
The door closed and he disappeared. Harry watched him, noting that B'Elanna had not come to find out what would be Tom's decision. At that moment he felt more pain than he figured he could bear. With slow steps and an aching heart, he turned and walked down the corridor to his cabin. He had to sit in the dark and mourn before he could face the world square on again.
Ken watched them go, his own feelings washing through him. At no time in his life did he feel such a strong and deeply abiding connection to any group of people before, even the Maquis. These people had an escape and they didn't take it. He would not forget this day as long as he lived.
*****Minutes later...
Sam Wildman packed, tears streaming down her face. Her inquiry about her husband had come back true. He was alive and waiting for them. Neelix watched her, his own sorrow enormous. He was staying and she would too if but for her husband. Naomi sat, holding her blue doll, her eyes wide as her mother put their life into two cases. Sam turned and looked at Neelix. "I'll send for you, when we see what happens. If it doesn't ... if it's not what we hope, I'll come back. You're my family, Neelix."
He nodded and smiled, hiding his hurt and loss. "Well then, I guess we better go."
Naomi rose and took his hand, looking from one to the other as she struggled to understand that Voyager, her birthplace and only home, was going to be a relic of a past she no longer belonged to. With heavy hearts, the three stepped out into the corridor and the uncertainty that lay ahead.
=0=
Nuclear Winter (4/5) [Book Two]
=0=
Later...
Harry stood in front of his mirror, noting his new change of uniform. He wore Maquis leather and earth tones and even though it fit him well and showed off his body to good affect it felt alien to him. Tom had left him at the door of the hangar bay, heading off to find B'Elanna. He had gone ahead, walking numbly to his cabin. He wanted to disappear for a while, slipping into the silence of his cabin for a moment to gather himself together. He had put them on, jumping into what was inevitable with gritted teeth. He turned and walked to the desk, sitting and calling up a screen. He stared at it, gathering his thoughts together. Finally, leaning forward, he began to record. "Mama and Dad, this is Harry..."
*****Engineering...
Tom tracked her down, entering Engineering and after looking around in the doorway, spotted her heading for her office. Moving quickly across the floor he climbed the stairs and caught her at the top. She turned, his hand on her elbow stopping her, and looked into his eyes. "Tom. You've decided to stay."
He stared at her, blinking. "You ... you don't ..." He stopped and turned, pulling her into her office. The door closed and Tom turned, staring at her with turmoil inside his heart. "What's going on? B'Elanna, you ordered us *locked up*. *Me*! Your *husband*!"
B'Elanna stared at him and then turned, tossing the padd in her hand onto the desk. Turning, she folded her arms, staring coolly at him. "You were trying to break out. You were trying to stop us."
Tom looked at her, her tone rendering him speechless for a moment. "I was trying ... I was *trying* to ... to ..." He stopped, staring at her for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Then he stepped forward, gripping her arms. "B'Elanna, what the *hell* is the matter with you?"
She stared at him and then pulled back. "I'm a Maquis, Tom. I'm one of the many that the Federation has decided aren't worth very much. I have to help my people."
Tom stared at her, his eyes searching her face for something warm and familiar. "B'Elanna ... don't you hear yourself? Don't you see what you've become? What about ... about *us*?"
She looked at him, a flicker of something warm emerging in her eyes. "We're still us, Tom. But the Maquis come first."
He stared at her, stepping back. "The *Maquis*?" he asked, his face filling with disbelief and pain. "How can *the Maquis* be first?"
She stared at him and then turned, picking up her padd. "It is," she said, turning and looking at him again. "It *has* to be. We have another chance, *we're still here* and I *won't* let it slip through my fingers again."
"So," Tom said, reeling. "So, that's that. If there's any time left over you and I will be together but if there isn't then, well ... that's the way it is."
"Something like that, yes," she replied, turning her face away from him. He stood there looking at her, waiting for her to change her mind but she wasn't going to. He clenched and unclenched his hands as he stood, hovering. There was nothing more to say. "Do we *live* together still or what?" he asked, his voice tremulous.
"Of course," she replied. "We are married after all."
He stared at her, mystified and frightened and then he turned and hesitatingly walked out the door. He hurried down the stairs and across engineering. Out the door he hurried and nearly ran for the lift beyond. He stood for a moment, his mind in a panic and then finally he told the computer his destination. "Computer. Sick Bay."
*****On the base below...
Chakotay walked through the corridors, passing people he knew and didn't know. He headed for his brother's office, the defacto headquarters of the Revolutionary Council. They had withdrawn here, generating a sanctuary for some of the most wanted men and women in the quadrant. Beyvahl, Chakotay's beloved older brother, had stepped into the breach created by the loss of their father and headed the Council, pulling them through the war, through the aftermath and into the deadly game of cat and mouse they now played.
Bey had secured the neutrality of a number of species, some of them members of the Federation and they used that cover to pass through space that held before no avenues of escape for them.
The Maquis was the military arm of the disparate peoples of the rim. All along the frontier, both during and after the war, families depended upon them for protection and relief. When no would go into an area to provide assistance to aid suffering or evacuate people, the Maquis did. When no one would help, they were always there. The acceptance and support that the Maquis received from the occupied planets, governments and people of the Frontier was complete, fanatical, unflinching, and total.
The return of Voyager had electrified the Frontier, the news spreading all along the rim, even though the Federation news blackout was total. No one outside of the DMZ and all the related areas knew of her return. No one would until they could breach the silence and stranglehold of Federation martial law and to do so meant to risk summary execution. In the harsh reality of the Frontier as it existed, the wrong decision could become a fatal one.
He paused before the open door, waiting until Bey looked up. As he did, Chakotay noted his brother sitting across from Bey, the brother closer to him in age, Nayib. He stared at the big andsome man as he rose and turned, grinning broadly at the tall, handsome copy of himself standing riveted by his own emotions in the doorway.
Nayib walked to him and took Chakotay into his arms, holding him tightly. They stood together, the room respectful in its silence as they embraced. Chakotay felt tears flow and when he looked at Nayib, he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat.
"You look well, brother," Nayib said, holding his brother's shoulders in his hands. "God, you look so good, Chakotay."
"Nubby," Chakotay whispered, tears running down his face, "Nubby."
Nayib hugged Chakotay, patting his back. "It's okay. It will be all right."
Chakotay sighed, moving as Nayib guided him to a chair. He sat, wiping his eyes. Looking up, he scanned the room for more familiar faces. "Where's Mama? Where's the girls?"
"Mama is on Dorvan. They won't let her leave. The girls have escaped the drag net that started on Tersis II. The underground is smuggling Neera and Layla to Vulcan. Khola is on the run for the haven near Qos'nos."
"Is she safe? Will she be okay?" Chakotay asked, his voice filled with concern.
"She's with her husband and Darius. The kids are with them. They will be fine. We have friends among the Klingons. They see what we're doing as a warrior cause they can get behind. They're going there."
Chakotay hung his head, shaking it with fatigue. "I can't ...
Mama, she's all right? They won't hurt her?"
He sounded so sad that Bey sat down beside him. "Don't worry about Mama. We're going to get her out if we can. Until then I think she's fine at the house."
"Does she know about Papa?" Chakotay asked, visions of his small mother being at the mercy of armies chilling.
"She does. We all know." Bey gripped Chakotay's arm. "It'll be okay, Chakotay. We all have to do our part. You got us Voyager. you got us forty more experienced Maquis warriors. You came home to us and the rim is exhilarated. You gave hope to a lot of people, Chakotay. We can recruit and we can raise arms and money. You did good, brother."
Chakotay listened and then he nodded, sighing. "What's next? Is the intermediary making sure that the 'Fleet people get back safely?"
"They are. The Andorians are neutral in this matter. They have interests out here that have taken them out of the game. They agreed to take the 'Fleet people to the mining colony at Asteroid 345-B. There the 'Fleet will come and take them away."
Chakotay nodded, relieved. "Good. They deserve to go home."
Nayib looked at his brother, biting back the obvious cutting remark that he might have made under different circumstances. He glanced at Bey and sighed. He rose and walked to the desk in the corner, picking up a big padd that was a star chart. Turning, he walked back, putting it on a nearby table. "Chakotay, come and sit. We have a lot to talk about." Chakotay rose and walked to the table, Bey beside him. They sat and for the next three hours, the two men and their aides explained to him what they were facing and how they were going to do what they had to do.
*****Sick Bay, Voyager...
"They were all brainwashed, if you will, conditioned by a man named Tyro Adani, a fanatical Maquis Vedek. He buried in their brain a desire to become Maquis and wage war."
"What can you do about it?" Tom asked, pacing with frustration and fear. "*I* can do nothing. The conditioning has been turned on, if you will, and now they are what he wanted them to be. None of them will let me study them and what few scans I have been able to make indicate that there is very little I can do. A lot of their pre-Star Fleet, pre-Lost in the Delta Quadrant emotions and feelings about their politics and the whole situation out here have returned in full force. There is nothing I can do about that."
"But ... but B'Elanna ... she's so ... so cold and matter-of- fact. She locked Harry and I up during the takeover. She didn't even blink an eye. I'm her *husband*. She's supposed to *love* me. She acts like I'm a ... a *stranger*. *Surely* there's something you can do to ... to undo this."
"I don't have anything at my disposal to change what's happened,
Mr. Paris. I suggest that you work on your marriage, try and overcome whatever conditioning she has that might be dampening her ardor for you, if that's what it is."
Tom looked at him, noting the doctor's helplessness and turned, leaving SickBay without a word. The doc watched him go and sighed, looking down at himself once more. He wore Maquis colors now. He was still trying to assimilate all of it. Turning, he walked to the computer and pulled up psych texts on war, mental conditioning and brainwashing.
*****On an Andorian freighter...
They sat in a lounge, watching as the asteroid grew larger in their port window. Kathryn hadn't spoken a word since their journey had begun, sitting by herself on a lounge chair. No one spoke to her, no one dared. As they approached the asteroid, they could see two Star Fleet ships, one a hospital vessel and one a destroyer, sleek and fast. They were waiting for them, to carry them back to their beloved homespace and they stared at them, at their familiar markings with an emotional silence. The command center for Mining Colony 345-Beta hailed their transport. They cleared the ship to a standard parking orbit and three at a time, beamed the Federation crew to the camp deep inside. As they arrived they were met by Federation Intelligence officers who led them away, ostensibly for debriefing, and by the time Kathryn was beamed over, dead last, they were all gone from view. She stepped from the padd, walking up to the tall female Commodore that stood waiting for her.
"Captain Janeway, I'm Commodore Hacker-St. John. Welcome back to the Alpha Quadrant."
"Where's my crew?" she asked coldly, ignoring the formalities.
"They're being given medical exams and debriefings. A hospital ship is going to be taking them back to the Federation for repatriation. They will be riding home on it. You will come with us on the Daedelus."
"Why?" Janeway asked, her voice flat and emotionless.
"We would like to talk to you, to hear what you have to say on a number of issues, to talk to you about your ordeal in the Alpha Quadrant."
"My crew," Janeway said, her posture ramrod stiff.
"They're getting the best treatment available. They will be well cared for on our hospital ship, Captain. Please, come with us."
Kathryn hesitated and then slowly walked past them to the doorway beyond. In less than an hour she would have a good bath, a great meal and the full attention of a rapt audience.
*****On board the hospital vessel, Donny Brook...
Sam Wildman sat on the bed, her uniform gone and a hospital gown taking its place. Her daughter sat next to her, leaning against her mother as they waited for dinner to be brought to them. Naomi stared at the spartan room and her mother's worried face. "Mommy?"
"What, Naomi?" Sam asked, schooling the worry out of her
voice.
"Why is the door locked?"
Sam didn't answer. She was too afraid herself to think.
"Mommy?"
"What, baby?"
"I wish Uncle Neelix were here."
"So do I, baby," Sam replied, kissing her daughter's head. "So do I."
*****On Voyager...
Neelix bustled around the kitchen, even though he knew that they would no longer have to ration food the way that they did in the Delta. People still came in, sitting together in comforting groups as they struggled to adjust to the terrible turn of events. He was filled with sympathy for them. He knew what it meant to be an outcast. It had been a long journey for him, leaving the only place he would ever see any of his own kind, hanging his hat and his future with these strange and wonderful people, these friends of his, his Voyager family. He bustled to help them and to forget that Sam and Naomi Wildman had left. He hustled so that he wouldn't break down and cry again as he contemplated the only family he had in too long leaving him all alone here. With a sigh, he turned and began to cook breakfast for his friends, his colleagues and his fellow travelers. Pasting a smile he didn't feel onto his face, he began to take orders for food.
=0=
Nuclear Winter (5/5) [Book Two]
=0=
On Dorvan V...
It was spring at home, the vines sporting small buds that would turn into white flowers, sweet smelling and fine. She stood in her yard, surveying the fresh growing grass along the borders of her flowerbeds. It had been a while since she was able to go anywhere, house arrest making short work of her excursions here and there. She relied on the kindness of her neighbors rounding up what she needed. She didn't need much. Khola, Neera, Layla, Darius, Benjamin and the children had left before the crack down began. They had all gotten off Dorvan and she was sure they made it away before capture. Nothing less than that would do.
It had been over a year since her son, Beyvahl, had sat down with her and gently explained how her beloved husband, Kolopak, had been located alive. It had shaken her, even after all that had happened out here, to know that the greatest companion of her life, the husband of her youth and the partner of her heart and soul had been located alive. She had wept for hours, crying out her anguish and joy, her rage and her sorrow. All the long years alone, all the prayers prayed to the spirits, all the lonely walks to the place that she gave to him in her heart- the windy knoll beyond the river- they were for nothing. She had no body to mourn because there *was* no body. He had never died and now in some ways it was worse knowing that.
Was he well? Was he ill? What happened to him? How did he survive Cardassian custody? What did they do to him? Why wouldn't the Federation let her see him? All of that plagued her, driving spikes of fear and loneliness into her heart on the long nights when she lay in their bed and ached to have him there, holding and loving her. She endured, like all the women that ever loved a man before her, waiting for her sons and daughters to help find him.
The Maquis owed it to them all to find and liberate him.
She looked over her shoulder, distracted by a land car driving up her road. It was a Federation vehicle, an armored car that regularly drove past her house, showing the flag and intending to intimidate her. She watched it go past, her expressionless face giving nothing away.
/... Go on, you motherless sons, try to intimidate me. You cannot hurt me ... I am beyond your reach .../
She sighed and turned, contemplating her rose bushes. She would have to trim them she decided. It would be the intelligent things to do. Bending to her labors, Maria, wife of Kolopak began to snip dead limbs away.
*****Arizona...
The tall dark-skinned young man stared at the older man sitting on a bench under a shade tree. He was a handsome man, a tattoo peeking out from under the straw hat that he habitually wore. His skin was dark, more of a natural rather than artificial shade and his eyes were dark and lively. Sek rose and walked forward, stopping just before him. The older an looked up, a quizzical look on his face. "You are Kolopak of Dorvan V."
A smile crossed the handsome face of the older man. "You have me at a disadvantage," he said softly, his voice lightly accented.
The younger man bowed slightly. "I am Sek, son of Tuvok of Vulcan."
Kolopak nodded and gestured to the younger man to sit. May I ask what a Vulcan is doing in a prison for Maquis and their collaborators?"
"I am guilty of inquiring about you, sir."
Kolopak looked at him and blinked. "Me?"
"Yes sir," he said, turning his dark intense gaze on the older man. "There is a strong and growing anti-war movement in the Federation and it's working to make hidden things known. Like you for instance."
"Me," Kolopak repeated, looking at the young man with interest.
"We are aware that people believe that you are dead. We came here to investigate this facility and found that you and several others are alive and being held incognito. We smuggled that information out. However, in doing so some of us were captured."
Kolopak stared at him, not daring to hope. "People know we're here?"
"The Maquis do."
Kolopak shifted to sit facing more directly the youngster beside him. "The Maquis *know* this?"
Sek nodded, watching the display of emotions that crossed the older man's face.
"Then, it's theoretical that my ... that *our* families know we're alive."
"Yes sir. That was the intent."
Kolopak looked at him for a long time before he could find the strength to speak again. "You were captured for doing this, weren't you?"
Sek nodded. "Some things are worth the bother."
Kolopak felt the grin spread across his face. "Bother. Sentencing to a prison no one is supposed to know about is a 'bother'?"
Sek shrugged, his impassive face revealing nothing of the emotions that swirled inside of him. "You are a ... someone I look to for inspiration. It was no trouble to find you, I assure you," Sek said, noting with personal satisfaction the smile that burst forth on the older man's face. "I'm speechless," he said, shaking his head. "Just speechless." For a long time Kolopak just sat there and then he turned to his silent companion to talk in depth about the outside world for the first time in nine long years.
*****Night on Voyager...
Tom sat on the couch, a book in his hand. B'Elanna had bustled around, dining with him, discussing things about the ship that needed doing and in short, if he hadn't noted her earlier behavior, he wouldn't be aware of it now. However, he did and it was still strange although he couldn't put his finger on it. He felt that if there were a choice between him and the Maquis, he would lose.
"Come here."
She looked up and stared at him, rising finally and walking over. He pulled her into his lap, reaching up and stroking her face. She smiled at him, her dark eyes unreadable for the first time in their years together. He felt strange and he struggled to put it aside. "We haven't been together since this all happened. Don't tell me you've put the Maquis before sex."
She grinned slightly, her eyes betraying nothing. "Not unless I have to."
Tom sighed and swallowed his pride. "I want you. I want to hold you."
She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "Give me an hour. I have to finish some reports." She rose and walked back to the desk, leaving him behind physically and emotionally. Tom watched her, a chill settling in his bones. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know what to say. So, without a word, he rose and walked to the bedroom. He bathed, dressed for bed and settled under the covers. Three hours later, B'Elanna would join him. They wouldn't make love that night either.
*****Geron and Greg Ayala...
They sat up together, talking. The Bajorans on the ship had stayed even though the neutral status of their planet made them candidates to go home. Geron had become close to Greg, the two of them doing things in their spare time together. The return had thrown them both into disarray. Geron would have to decide to go or stay. For Greg, there was no choice. He had no place to go, his home world was the same one as Chakotay's. He sat talking to Geron, grateful for the chance to remain in friendly hands.
"You look worried," Geron said, slipping closer to the bigger man.
"It's going to be all right," Greg said, kissing Geron's forehead.
"It won't. I don't know how this is going to turn out but I'm glad to be here. I don't know what I would do if we had to go back to Bajor."
"You don't need to worry about that. You stay with me, Gerry.
I can tell you now that nothing is going to happen to you as long as I'm around. We've made it this far haven't we? Chakotay will lead us. All we have to do is our jobs."
Geron nodded, sighing. "I know. It just seems so endless. I don't know what it would be like to live without war."
"I know," Greg said, taking Geron's hand into his. "No matter what, we'll be fine as long as we're together."
Geron sighed and nodded, moving to lay his head on Greg's lap.
They sat together in the quiet of the evening, waiting for the next day and all that it would bring.
*****First Officer's Cabin...
He came home late, dinner and long talks with his brothers and their associates eating up his afternoon and evening. He tip-toed in, stripping and stepping into the bathroom, loathe to awaken Tabor, who lay sleeping on his bed. He stood under the water, the hot liquid pouring off his back when the door opened and someone joined him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. "You're late," Tabor murmured sleepily.
"I didn't want to wake you."
"You did."
"I'm sorry," Chakotay said, smiling slightly.
Tabor slipped under his arm, turning and leaning against the shower wall, pulling Chakotay against him. They kissed, long and tenderly as the water slid over them. "You taste good," Tabor said, sighing into Chakotay's mouth.
"You do too," Chakotay said, nuzzling Tabor's neck. "I wish I wasn't so tired."
"Me too," Tabor said, rubbing Chakotay's back with his hands. "Let's get out of here and go to bed. You need some sleep."
Chakotay hugged Tabor tightly, kissing him on the mouth. He shut off the water and they dried each other, walking to the bed beyond. Falling in, they wrapped themselves in each other's bodies and soon they were fast asleep.
Outside the window, events moved on, taking their own course.
Far away and nearby, the next part of their saga was being staged. Soon they would be in the middle of it and how it would turn out, nobody knew. But that was for tomorrow. Right now, sleeping together was all that counted.
*****In another cabin...
Tuvok sat meditating, centering the turmoil in his heart that never seemed to subside. His son was a part of a group of people that were standing fast against the continuation of the battles and wars that had plagued the rim for over a decade.
He was proud of him, proud that he had stood up for his beliefs. He was also afraid for him because he had disappeared into the Federation security system without a trace. He could imagine the feelings of his wife as she searched for him. She would search for Sek too. She would not give up until she found him. He wouldn't either. He was home but all the joy of it had turned to ashes. He couldn't go home and he couldn't it by. He had to do something so he did the only think he could. He gave himself over body and soul to the only group that could do something about what had happened here.
He became a Maquis for real.
With a sigh, he blew out his lamp and rose, walking quietly into his bedroom to sleep. It would take effort and time but eventually he would drift off into sleep at last.
*****Nearing Jupiter Station...
The hospital ship flew on, taking the forty 'Fleet members on board to their final destination. The courts had been alerted and their status had been determined as a threat to the security of the Federation vis a vis the Maquis. By the time they were on their way to Earth, they were already assigned numbers in the Federation Penal system.
Nothing of Voyager's return could become known, the idea of a ship with Maquis on board was considered dangerous to the war effort. When they arrived, they would be taken off, transported to the Arizona desert and incarcerated in the Star Fleet prison for Maquis and their collaborators. They would be 'disappeared' into the system, buried along with their stories.
The hospital ship would depart again, heading for the frontier where it would be put to good use. The ship bearing Janeway would land in San Francisco and she would be interviewed, co-opted and given a new ship and assignment. She would be sent back to the rim to search for Voyager and bring her back into the Star Fleet fold. Nothing they would tell her would relate to the old life she lived. It would all be about the 'here and now'. Opposing her would be the full might of the Maquis, the closed ranks of the people of the rim and the Maquis warrior, Chakotay. When it was all over, no one would ever be the same again.
*TBC c2000 Nov. 5