Part Nine: Maquis.

AN: I've decided to add a little counterpoint to this story. In this chapter we get the Maquis perspective on the events so far. Perhaps not everything is as rosy on Val Jean as in Cannon, especially with a Starfleet Intelligence operative aboard for six months. But then, is anything ever blissful within a guerrilla terrorist organisation?


Once again to the Guest, I have friends in both the army and navy. They are 1) a great source of information when writing and 2) many have families even though they put to sea for months at a time, women included. As to getting rid of Seska, while it would be nice, as a plot arc, it is just not possible, or is it? I guess you'll have to read on to find out.


"Hogan," Seska all but screamed over the comm. Internally she wondered why Chakotay hadn't left her in charge on the bridge, after all, she had been sleeping with the man and expected some compensation for the onerous task. These humanoids were weak by Cardassian standards, letting emotion and protocol get in the way of what they really wanted. It seemed warming his bed wasn't enough to give her control when the only personnel on Val Jean didn't have any Starfleet training. "What's going on up there? I sent Suder to reroute the EPS conduits at least fifteen minutes ago. Chakotay want's this ship ready the moment he gets back from the array with Torres."

There was little loved lost between Hogan and Seska. Both usually worked with Torres in Engineering and only her dominate influence, that being her fists, kept the peace between them. The difference due, in Hogan's opinion, to the fact he'd earned his place where as Seska used her feminine whiles to get what she wanted. There was just something off about the woman and he wondered why Chakotay didn't see it when the rest of the male crew did. Hogan knew Locarno, a reputed playboy tormented the Bajoran woman whenever the Captain wasn't around and Seska wasn't fond of Nick either.

"Lon's under the engineering console," Hogan responded, annoyance colouring his tone. "Considering the mess up here, you lucky he can find the conduits to work on. That displacement wave did a lot of damage."

"I should be done in ten minutes," Suder said, is tone typically even for a Betazoid. A loner by nature, he didn't like arguments.

"Get back down here," Seska made her displeasure known, "when you've finished. Voyager still has a tractor bean on us. I want to see if we can find a way to disrupt it by the time Chakotay returns."

Hogan cut communications to Engineering as both he and Suder snorted. "Who does she think she is," Hogan snickered, "Torres? The last time she attempted something like that, she blew out half the ships relays and left us dead in space. If Torres and Locarno hadn't come up with patching in energy from life support to restart the impulse engines, we would all have been sitting in a Cardie prison camp."

"What do you think happened to B'Elanna?" Suder asked, suddenly intrigued.

Shrugging, Hogan responded, "Locarno wondered if it had to do with her being our engineer, or the only Klingon. When that Starfleet Captain said they'd lost an Ensign, Nick changed his mind. He and Chakotay said an Ensign wasn't important enough on a starship and couldn't be worth any tactical advantage. I guess we'll find out when they get back with Ayala."

Shimmering into existence on the transporter pad, Hogan and Seska watched as Chakotay and Ayala appeared. They'd been gone a little over half an hour. Returning so soon spelt trouble for an already understaffed ship and both knew it. Without the two officers Chakotay relied on to keep his ship running smoothly and the ten dead in the displacement wave, they were running on near empty.

"What happened to Locarno and Torres?" Seska demanded. Recently both had become a thorn in her side. The blue-eyed blond treated her without respect and their resident Klingon wanted Chakotay for herself, even if she was pretending to fawn over Locarno to make him jealous. With both gone, it was her chance to ingratiate herself in the command structure. Knocking off Ayala wouldn't be too hard which might give her a clear chance at commanding this shockingly out dated vessel.

"Starfleet thinks Torres has been taken by the entity in the array because she passed some kind of biometric testing. She's been transported to the same planet as the energy pulses," Ayala stated easily, watching Chakotay apprehensively. "Locarno…"

"Starfleet can have that traitor," the Captain spat, obviously not wanting to talk about the man. While it peaked Seska's interest, she'd leave questioning him for a more intimate moment. "Ayala, I want you to take over his duties. Seska, how are those engines coming."

"Slowly," she growled, attempting to distract him with her suggestive body language. For once it didn't seem to work. "I'm not Torres."

"Don't we know it," Ayala muttered under his breath. In the week between Gul Evek's attack and getting stranded in the Delta quadrant, Nick had been more vocal about the Bajoran woman's lack of ethics and compassion. It had made many, Mike included, start to see Seska in a new light. Even with his recent revelations, Tom Paris's training might just have pinned the woman's character correctly.

"Enough," Chakotay ordered, his tone hardening as he glared at his subordinates. "Hogan, get back to engineering and see what you can do. I need weapons, shields and propulsion ready by the time Voyager moves out. Captain Paris should have deactivated the tractor beam. They estimate their repairs will take twenty-four hours to complete. Then we're heading for the planet to rescue Torres."

"We're not really going to join them," Seska sounded furious.

"If you come up with a better way to get Torres back," Chakotay's voice became deathly quiet and menacing, "make the sensor array a fully functional and return us to the Badlands without the help of that ship, I'm happy to hear it." Silence greeted him. "Then I suggest you stop standing here and get on with it."

Waiting until the other's left, Seska fired her parting shot in an acidic voice, "you're becoming soft, Chakotay."

"Maybe," he returned, the look narrowing on her, "I'm finally seeing clearly."

Unable to account for this sudden change in his character, Seska knew when to leave well enough alone. Retreating to engineering, she'd try to get Ayala talking. She was missing something and her training wouldn't let her rest until she knew what it was. "Nick Locarno," Seska whispered under her breath, understanding intuitively he was at the centre of this mystery. In her estimation, there was only one reason Chakotay would call him a traitor and Locarno would choose to remain on the Starfleet vessel. "He's the operative I've been looking for."

Enraged and feeling betrayed, Val Jean's Captain knew Ayala wouldn't spread a word of Nick Locarno's true identity until given the signal. Twenty-four years in Starfleet and Chakotay could have kicked himself at not recognising Admiral Owen Paris's son. While the organisation employed more than thirty million people, over a thousand of which were Admirals, across tens of thousands of ships and bases, he'd met Owen Paris and the resemblance to his son was uncanny. Tom hadn't disguised himself in any way, or his age but he had traded on his boyish good looks and playful character. Hindsight proved the man to be much more than a Starfleet washout, even if both Locarno and Paris were excellent pilots. Chakotay just hadn't seen it, or hadn't wanted to see the truth when he was in desperate need of someone with Tom Paris's skills.

His anger sustained Chakotay through the next day as he fought to ignore many of the tactics and changes Loc…Paris rought on Val Jean during his six-month tenure. Changes that improved the efficiency of his ship and crew. Between Seska and Hogan they managed to patch the old girl's engines and made some headway on repairing the other systems.

Approaching to the G type system, Captain Paris sent a report containing their intelligence from a Delta quadrant native, one Talaxian named Mr. Neelix. It seemed the junk trader found in a debris field beyond the Ocampan heliopause had some relevant data to impart on the entity known as the Caretaker, the Ocampan home world and the socio-political environment in this sector. He'd even agreed to help them locate Torres and Kim and given the Alpha quadrant natives valuable intelligence.

"Ayala," Chakotay sat alone on the bridge after digesting the plan, "get up here."

"Something you need to talk about," the man asked quietly as he slipped into the chair beside his Captain. Without a word, Chakotay threw him a PADD. Several minutes and a low whistle later, Ayala questioned, "how much has been left out of this intel?"

"You'll need to ask Paris," Chakotay spat. Watching his now first officer's reaction, he added, "Captain or Commander, I don't think it matters. I don't trust either of them. She's Starfleet through and through, he's too good at his job to reveal everything."

"You really shouldn't have riled Captain Paris up like that," Ayala rebuked with a careless shrug of his shoulders, "after all the man we knew as Nick Locarno is her husband. Besides," watching his bosses' reaction from the corner of his eye, Mike decided to give his opinion, "you agreed to work with Voyager until Torres was back on board and we were in the Alpha quadrant. Even amongst the Maquis, your word means something."

"Just make sure this ship is ready," Chakotay growled menacingly, "to break orbit and get back to that array once B'Elanna's in the engine room. I don't want any trouble with our weapons and shields barely holding together. Torres will have them sorted out by the time we reach the Caretaker. I plan on being back in the Badlands long before Captain Paris and her ship are anywhere near that array."

"Suder's working on the shields now," Ayala stated. "If anyone can repair the weapons array, it's Seska. I guess that means you're going to have to leave Hogan in charge of the bridge again when we beam over to Voyager?"

"Yes," Chakotay didn't look impressed. "Locarno might have been a pain in the backside, but he knew what I was thinking before I opened my mouth. I'm just not sure we can trust him, especially if he's de-briefed his wife and that Vulcan tactical officer on our crew and methods. You and I are going to have to watch every step on Voyager and while we're on the Ocampan planet. I don't want to give anything away."

"Play it by the Fleet book, you mean," Ayala grinned ominously. He'd graduated three years ago, just when the Maquis movement started. Instead of taking up his assignment as an Ensign, Mike had been disillusioned by the Federations reaction to Cardassian atrocities on his wife's home world. He didn't want to think about Marla and his two sons, only getting home to them when they retrieved Torres.

"With a little Maquis twist," Chakotay added, "but only when Paris isn't looking. I don't want that man suspecting a thing. And Mike," in an odd moment of intuition, the Captain added, "we don't want to create another Cardassia Prime in this quadrant. Lock down our technology when we leave. If the Kazon get hold of Val Jean for any reason…"

Nodding, Mike Ayala understood. The Prime Directive had been drilled into the two Maquis while in Starfleet. The people in this sector of space didn't need the same atrocities occurring as those in the DMZ experienced at the hands of a malevolent enemy. There was a similarity of purpose between these Kazon and the Cardassian's if Tom Paris's information proved correct. If there was one thing both Chakotay and Ayala understood, it was just how good Intelligence Commander Paris had been at ferreting out information while on Val Jean.

The mission to the surface of the Ocampan world proved interesting, but not as intriguing as the scene in Voyager's sick bay. Chakotay felt the undercurrent of tension in the Paris marriage and, under the circumstances he completely understood it. It seemed serving on the same ship was going to cause some issues. Yet the pair worked together remarkably well within the command structure. The Captain had disparaged both Paris's and his behaviour, just as he would have done if two subordinates bickered in his ready room. Kathryn Paris might prove to be a tenacious, intelligent woman who stuck to her Starfleet principles. The thought pleased Chakotay, because he could work with that.

Tom Paris proved to be another matter entirely. When the going got tough, the man sent his away team back to their vessels and continued his mission alone. It was little more than Chakotay expected, he suddenly realised. Nick Locarno had been the same, ensuring the safety of Val Jean's crew before his own. Yet the man always seemed to fall on his feet.

"Why didn't you tell us," Seska demanded, walking alongside the Captain when he beamed back without Torres, "that Locarno, or whatever his name is, was a traitor?"

She'd bided her time, allowing Chakotay to stew over the loss of his trusted first officer. If the anger on his face were any indication, he understood Locarno was a Starfleet intelligence plant. Something more than failing to recoup Torres had happened on while on Voyager. Seska managed to worm her way onto the bridge when Chakotay hailed Hogan and informed him of the foiled first attempt. That was when she realised the Kazon might be of help if they knew the exact location of the Federation vessel.

"I could ask why you let Voyager take on two Kazon raiders alone?" Chakotay retorted the moment he returned to the bridge of his ship. His dark eyes raked over both Seska and Hogan, demanding answers.

"Because the weapons and shields are barely holding together," she answered testily. "One well aimed blow and we're history. Without Torres, the repairs have been slow. She's jury rigged so many systems on this old bucket, few of us know how to patch it up. I didn't think you'd want to put your crew in danger."

Acknowledging the comment with a nod, Chakotay almost found it within himself to laugh. How many times have we been in a similar situation, with a Cardassian Battle Cruiser breathing in our warp trail and still come out the other side? He cursed silently. Seska didn't complain then, so what's changed now. Voyager is a Federations ship, the only other one in this quadrant and the closest thing we have to a friend within seventy thousand light years. What's her point?

Unwilling to consider the ramifications, Chakotay concentrated on the remains of the battle before him. Two heavily damaged scout ship buzzed around Voyager, inflicting minimal damage. To his trained eye, they were assessing the larger vessel's capabilities. Captain Paris gave nothing away, besides the occasional well aimed phaser blast. She allowed the small ships to limp away without changing her orbit or contacting Val Jean.

Curious, Chakotay continued to monitor the situation. Energy pulses from the array rained down on the Ocampan world, irradiating the surface and any possible resources the planet might have held. Wondering if Torres, Paris and Kim would be forever trapped in the subterranean world, he knew they couldn't remain in the system very long. The window of opportunity for the Caretaker to send them home was rapidly closing, as were Kazon reinforcements.

Just why the Kazon's sensors didn't detect Val Jean, Chakotay didn't know. The four raider class vessels came out of nowhere. Larger than the scouts, and better armoured, their weapons managed to dent Voyager's shields on their first pass. It looked as though the larger ship was readying for evasive pattern Beta two when Chakotay considered joining the fight.

"Chakotay," Tom's voice suddenly erupted through the comm, "if you don't want your engineer back, that's fine by me. I have grounds to stick her in the brig for assaulting a Starfleet Officer and a witness to her crime. And that's where she'll stay until we get back to have her tried for treason."

"Beam Torres over now," all of the rage Chakotay had been holding in exploded and it was aimed at Commander Tom Paris.

"Sorry," the softer but gravelly voice of Voyager's Captain issued from the speaker, "can't drop shields at the moment. Maybe if you help us out, I might be able to arrange it once we reached the Array."

"Changing to attack pattern Delta four," came the order from the helm.

"I'll take the port," Chakotay knew the Starfleet playbook and how to play this manoeuvre. It took one pass to halt the attack. The comm line still open, Captain Paris set course for the array at warp seven and goaded him into following.

Hoping the Kazon hadn't sent reinforcements ahead of them, Chakotay had to be content with a minor victory. It seemed he'd get Torres back, in one piece and checked over by a Starfleet doctor. From the shiner on Commander Paris's rapidly swelling eye, it looked like his Engineer had gotten in a good one when she uncovered his duplicity. Although the minute B'Elanna stepped foot on Val Jean, she'd be happy to tell everyone about the traitorous Nick Locarno.

If something happens, Chakotay theorised silently, and the Caretaker either can't or won't send us home, if the Kazon get to the array first and destroy it, or if there's a battle and my ship is destroyed, life in the Delta quadrant won't be easy, especially if we end up on Voyager.