The Cardassian Mask Chapter 3: Part Three: Escape, a startrek: voyager fanfic

THE CARDASSIAN MASK

The Cardassian Mask

A Star Trek: Voyager Novel

written and illustrated by
L. R. Bowen

PART THREE: ESCAPE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"GO TO SLEEP. I'll keep an eye on them. I think they know now I'm not such an easy target."

"Better--yaahh--take my stunner. You'll only have to wave it at them. There isn't much charge left. Yaahh... Gods, I'm tired. I've been awake for fifty hours. I wish I had a crew I could trust."

"You won't find that with the Kazon," said Chakotay lightly.

"No...they're backstabbers and plotters, every one of them. But they respect strength. They don't attack when they know the odds are bad. That's the only way to keep them in line."

"So--how are you going to prove to them that the odds are bad?"

"They'll know it when the time comes. I'll have shiploads of them begging to sign on."

"Look, I'm trying to help you. Can't you see that? If you don't tell me what you're planning, I can't give you my input."

"All right, I guess you earned it." A low laugh. "Gods, what a man you are. And in front of her, too. Though that might have put a little spice into it, hmm?"

He was silent for a moment, apparently considering how to reply.

"Oh, you are so damn transparent. Had her on the brain for a while, have you? You like a woman who gives you orders? I can do that better than she can. I can give the right kind of orders."

"You're planning to take--"

"That's it, of course. Why the hell would I want little scraps when I can get the whole thing? I'm not going to give a damn thing to Culluh. He's an idiot. The bitch made him look like a fool. He is a fool. Heh. How about you?"

"I'm not as much of a fool as I used to be."

"Good. Better put your mind to the problem. Tuvok's the obstacle now--yaahh--I'm so tired..."

"Go to sleep, Ses--Kattell." Janeway heard the sound of a kiss, and the compartment darkened. Chakotay stepped out and shut the door behind him, and she heard the lock ping. Kattell turned over in the bunk and looked at Janeway, her eyes gleaming in the faint reddish illumination, then settled back down and did not move again.

ABOUT AN HOUR later, Chakotay slipped in, silent, and gave Janeway a little water. The smell of the other woman's body hung around him as he knelt and held the cup to the captain's lips, and he was reluctant to meet her eyes. His hands hovered close to her face when she took the cup and drank gratefully, and she thought for a moment that he might stroke her cheek. Had they just been lovers? In one sense they had, although he had never touched her.

The much-needed drink began to clear the throbbing in her head. Chakotay's expression was obscured by the darkness in the cabin, but his head was turned and he held the back of one hand over the lower part of his face as he waited for her to finish. Shame? Janeway could not see him as tainted, and wondered that he would think so. He finally raised his eyes to hers as he took the empty cup again, clasping it in both hands. Bowing his head, he touched the rim of the cup with his lips where hers had been. A slow shock moved her, like ripples that spread from a stone plunging into water. Janeway let out a long shuddering breath, with more than a little sob in it, and suddenly they were clutching at each other, faces pressed together, a desperate embrace, mouths shut tight and jaws clenched for silence. She was sitting with her knees drawn up, her hands grasping the front of his shirt and crushed between their chests as Chakotay enveloped her with all his strength, kneeling on one knee and pulling her against his body. Her legs parted around him, nose and mouth were buried in the hollow between his neck and shoulder, and his chin was locked down on the side of her face, arms hot and powerfully constricting, his knees pressing the sides of her pelvis, every part of him holding her so tightly her breath was gone. She felt the pulse hammer in his throat, against her lips.

Shuddering, holding back sobs, they rocked slowly, his fingers digging into her skin, her legs wrapped around his thighs. Then Chakotay went limp and sagged against her, heavy, pressing her into the bulkhead. He collapsed to the deck, lay curled around her and his head fallen in her lap, and she lifted her knees to bring him in reach of her shackled hands.

"Chakotay..." she whispered, as softly as she could, almost thinking his name to him, and cradled his head, stroking a short, restricted path through his hair. He was sobbing into her uncovered stomach, muffled by her body, and she could feel his breath surging back and forth, his open mouth and his tears wetting her skin. There was nothing she could do but wait for a moment and comfort him until he could listen. Janeway shot a glance at Kattell's bunk, and saw no movement except that of slow breathing. The woman was exhausted, deeply asleep, and Cardassian hearing was less acute than Human.

"Chakotay," she said again, a little more loudly, and bowed her head to him. "Listen to me. We won't get another chance." His irregular shaking gradually subsided until he was breathing evenly, his arms around her waist and his face still pressed into her torso. "Can you hear me?" He took a deep breath and nodded, his face sliding against her stomach, in the hot moisture his tears had left, and then sat up and leaned against her chest so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I think it's working. She's never really going to trust you, but she will think you are on her side, or at least willing to work with her. It was a good plan, the best one open to you, and I know that carrying it out must have cost you a great deal." He clutched her shoulder, wordlessly. "But you've got to carry it even farther. You've got to be willing to do whatever it takes to save Voyager from her."

"Captain?" Chakotay whispered.

"You've sacrificed a great deal already. You may have to sacrifice even more. Will you do that?"

He straightened up slightly and looked at her, their faces inches apart. "I'd die for you," he said simply, and Janeway closed her eyes in pain and gratitude.

"I...know. That's not what I'm asking you to do." His brows furrowed. "This isn't about saving me. This is about saving Voyager. The crew. Not just one life. Do you understand?"

"No." He put a hand on the bulkhead behind her and shoved back, then planted the other hand above her shoulder, so that he surrounded her with his outstretched arms like a fortress, no longer embracing her. "No."

"Promise me. I don't know what will happen, so I can't give you a specific order. But if you have to choose between me and Voyager, you must think about one hundred and fifty lives, and the imperative to keep our technology out of enemy hands. Promise me you will not let your personal feelings intrude on that decision."

Chakotay sagged his head slowly, his breathing ragged again. "I--"

A sigh from the bunk, and Kattell turned over. He froze, hunching protectively over Janeway, and they huddled for a moment, barely breathing. Janeway's heart was pounding so hard she fancied it could be heard. After a few long moments with sounds of disturbed sleep from Kattell, Chakotay let out a silent gasp and looked for the drinking cup. He rose, tucked the cup into his shirt, and crossed to the bunk. "Sorry I woke you," he murmured. "Just checking. Go back to sleep." A sound like a lilting purr, and the Cardassian fell silent again. Chakotay opened the door to go, glanced back at Janeway, his big form silhouetted by the slightly brighter light of the corridor, and stepped over the sill. She could not read his expression in the dimness, and he closed the door and locked it, the faint ping of the magnets echoing in silence absolute.

"HERE, LET ME peel that for you. Ooh, this one has a lot of seeds, doesn't it? But I think they're edible. Mmm, delicious. You're going to like this one." Kattell put a plate in front of him and began to slice a round green fruit into it. "Come on, eat. You look like you need it." She dangled a juicy finger over his lips and ran a sticky line along the lower one as he opened his mouth to let her drip the sweetness on his tongue. She leaned forward and kissed him quickly, plunged the finger into her own mouth, and smiled. Her other hand slid up his arm, holding the sharp stiletto she was using to prepare fruit for his breakfast.

"Careful with that."

"Ooh, wouldn't want to spoil his lovely complexion. Gods, you're beautiful, Chakotay. Even on two hours sleep, you look extremely tasty. I'd probably have ten children in ten years with you, if I were a respectable mated woman at home--heh. I'd like to have sons of yours--"

"Ah--" Of course she knew that Humans and Cardassians were not usually cross-fertile, but perhaps this was not a good time to bring that up. He munched on fruit and took a long drink of water.

"Let's rub your shoulders. I'm sorry I couldn't let you get more sleep." Kattell moved around behind him, dropped a kiss on his neck, and began to massage him through his shirt. "You are awfully tense. You shouldn't worry so much. You always were a worrier."

"There's plenty to--uh--be concerned about." Chakotay grunted when her thumbs dug into a sore spot. "You couldn't have picked a more difficult goal, and we don't have a lot of resources to work with. Your crew is pretty small, and you can't trust them anyway. If they found out that you were planning to cut Culluh out of the spoils, they'd probably kill you."

"They might try," said Kattell, and worked into his shoulderblades with her knuckles. "What they call combat training is pretty rough. Culluh's fairly good with poisons and drugs--that's how he got where he is--but I could take him down, hand to hand, any day, as long as I had a knife or a garrote. These bastards are big and strong, but a little slow. And anyway, I'm not going to let them know. Even Culluh won't know until he wakes up one morning with a needle full of--well, that's pretty long term. Suffice it to say that I'll have enough 'unique technology' to string him along for quite a while."

"If we succeed." He casually swept the last few slices of fruit off the table and into Janeway's reach.

"With your help, lover--" she nipped his ear from behind-- "the odds are pretty good. I've got an idea taking shape here."

"All right, let's discuss it."

"Ohh, let me mull it over for a little while. Shouldn't disturb it while it's forming." Kattell stroked the fingers of one hand over his head, ruffling the hair. "I'll just fiddle and think. How delightfully ornamental you are."

"Mmm." Chakotay grunted noncommittally, but he gritted his teeth and did a little thinking himself.

Well, perhaps he had convinced her that he was working for her interests, but Obsidian Order operatives never really trusted anyone fully. Even someone they loved. If she loved him... Chakotay shook the thought away. How could he define love, when he had been wrong so many times? Janeway was still huddling by the wall, chewing with discreet avidity on the scraps of their meal. Even while she was half- dressed in a sack, her hair dirty and tangled, he could admire her strongly cut beauty, her self-possession. Damn, he thought, what self- possession. How could she maintain it? How could she appear so calm in the face of crisis like this?

Just the way she had shut down like a slammed door on the holodeck. He had been sure that she was responding to him on more than a physical level, that all of her wanted to have him, that she knew his mind and had accepted what he was trying to offer her. And he had been wrong. Only when more depended on their connection than inclination alone had she allowed herself to give in to it. Her duty might be inseparable from her.

Kattell purred and pawed him, slipping one hand inside his shirt and running the other up and down his thigh. He pretended to ignore her, but shrugged slightly to dislodge her fingers from his chest. Well, he'd heard, long after the fact, that Cardassian men behaved irritably when they wanted to show their interest in a woman. He'd laughed. At the time. With his Bajoran lover. 'I suppose I've got something in common with the ugly bastards after all,' she'd said. 'You're so cute when you're grouchy.' And then, many months later, when the world had turned upside down and they were both serving on a Starfleet vessel lost in the antipodes of the galaxy, she had cooked him one more batch of mushroom soup...

And had embraced him, and offered herself again; to what end? To this end, perhaps, the one they were planning now. That they should wrest Voyager into their own hands, and continue the quest for home in their own way.

Loved Kattell? The emotion of half a man, of someone who had been living in darkness with no idea of the sun. And what did he feel now, now that Janeway had reached down to help him back into the light, cleansed him with no care to keeping herself free from his defilement? Now that he had taken possession of what she had given him? She glanced up at him, her eyes fathomless blue, and he felt the power of her gift again. Strong medicine, a share in her spirit, part of herself to sustain him. If he could only have asked her what she meant by it. He looked away before he could blurt out the question, trying not to form it at all. This had been the only plan open to them... She had done it out of necessity. But she had wanted it too, and both of them had known that. Did this change anything? Would anything be different if they only lived through this? The sudden hope pierced him painfully, an echo of what he had felt once in her arms, the warmth of her body through a wet uniform. Slowly he turned his eyes to Janeway again, Kattell's hands still on his head, and saw her lips form silent words, something he could not make out. His name, perhaps. She had tried to extract a promise from him, but he was still not sure he could give it. She called him to duty, and told him to forget his heart.

Kattell laughed, and he started.

"You're going to escape from me," she said.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW he won't just cut my throat while he's at it?" Chakotay said a little nervously. He eyed the big sullen Kazon holding a scalpel to his naked right shoulder.

"Because he knows you're essential to the plan," Kattell replied. She ran her fingertips over his back. "Just a little incision. You'll hardly feel a thing."

"Couldn't I just take a communicator of some kind instead?"

"I don't have anything else that will do. The transmission has to be on a low subspace channel that won't show up on ordinary communications monitoring. This is a modified eavesdropping device-- and it needs to be absolutely secure. Implanting it in you is the best way. I'll know if it's tampered with, and it can't be found in a visual search, if Tuvok gets suspicious."

"That's another problem. Will he believe that I've managed to escape from your ship?" Chakotay twitched as the blade opened a three-centimeter slit behind his collarbone.

"Yes, he will. I said you were not a hostage any more, and our little session with him would have been pretty convincing. You tell him that I sent you on an errand with the sled to get something from the base, and that you made a run for Voyager instead. It's perfectly plausible. And a lot sounder than trying to get Tuvok to fall for the same thing twice."

"Except that I'm leaving the captain behind."

"It's necessary. It's expedient. You figure you can rescue her more easily if you have Voyager's resources. And you tell them there's a device you discovered in the base that will help."

"That sounds awfully convenient. And B'Elanna will want to know details--ouch!" He gritted his teeth while Kattell probed the wound open and inserted a lentil-shaped black disk about the size of her thumbnail.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Sorry I don't have any anesthetics except that powerful stuff. You need to be clear-headed." Kattell applied a salve and a bandage. "There will be a mark, but it's pretty small. The transmitter won't be detected by ordinary transporter security filters. Just don't let yourself be scanned."

"I think I can avoid making any doctor's appointments," he smiled.

"Don't remind me. The first thing I'm going to do is remove that busybody's personality," Kattell hissed. "If it hadn't been for him and his blasted Bajoran medical texts, I wouldn't be having to go to all this trouble now."

"Would you ever have told me?" Chakotay asked quietly.

The Cardassian woman's hazel eyes regarded him from the Bajoran face. Her small chin betrayed no scars of surgery, no trace of her true aspect. The mask was invisible.

"Put your shirt on," she said.

"IF EVERYTHING'S READY, then I'll go. That little sled will take a couple of hours to make it over the horizon so Voyager can pick me up." Chakotay stood and ran a hand over his hair, glancing down at Janeway. "When you make your call, I want to see her, understand?"

"All right, all right, I agreed." Kattell rolled her eyes. "Why would you think I want to hurt her?"

"No reason." He scuffed at the phaser burn on the deck.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I was frustrated. Everything's fine now-- this will work like a charm. I don't want to kill anyone--some of those people are my friends!"

"Like Harry?"

"Yes, like Harry!" She seemed genuinely distressed. "And Torres-- Gods, I miss her. They don't take women on Kazon ships. For months, it's been nothing but grunting thugs and that Culluh." She spat the name. "Just getting back on board again...I never thought I would miss a Starfleet ship so much, and now all the inconvenient people will be out of the way. Thanks to you, we can do it nice and tidy. Get Tuvok down to the base with everyone who would put up too much of a fight, and Voyager is ours."

"Ours..." He looked at Janeway again, who had no visible reaction.

"Joint captains, Chakotay. I've got what it takes to negotiate with the Kazon--and make no mistake, we need them on our side--and you have the technical skills and the command experience. With Janeway out of the picture, you're next in line anyway. That will help bring the good little Federations around. We'll have to leave some of them behind here with her and Tuvok, I expect, but I know plenty of them will be glad to serve with commanders less overscrupulous and more practical. Carey, for one. Did you know he worked with me and Torres to get the space folder?"

"No one told me a damn thing about that."

"You were better off not knowing, probably." Kattell smirked. "Tuvok took the fall, and you filled in for him with the bitch. Was that when you got the idea?"

"What idea?"

"To butter her up. Get into her...ah, good graces."

"I'd say it dates back a little farther than that." He folded his arms tightly.

"Certainly does for her." Kattell crouched down to peer into Janeway's averted face. "It made me sick, the way she used to flirt with you. But then she kept fluttering her eyelashes at that Gath fellow on Sikarius--he'd probably have given her all the 'equipment' she wanted if she'd had any sense. Self-righteous, prudish bitch--"

Chakotay grabbed her shoulder as she leaned forward, snarling, and pulled her upright and against him, his fingers closing around her wrists. Her teeth flashed at him for a moment, and then she consciously relaxed herself and smiled disarmingly.

"Don't worry. We won't have to put up with her too much longer. We'll leave her here with the key to the base so all of them can hide from the Kazon. There's plenty of food and water--it's nicer than living on Voyager, practically." Kattell smirked ironically. "That reminds me-- you're supposed to have that key from me so you could look for that mysterious device." She wriggled out of his grip, groped in her jacket, and handed him a flat card of bronzy metal. Chakotay took it and looked at both sides, then slipped it into a pocket of his vest.

"That has got to be the worst part of this plan. Ancient alien artifacts? Torres will see right through that. Can't you think of anything better?"

"How else are you going to get a big away team down there? And I thought Torres was a prime candidate for us. She was toadying to the bitch, but if she's gone, B'Elanna will follow you like she did before."

Chakotay decided not to argue the point further. "I'll get moving. Give me plenty of time to get on board, and a day to sound out the crew. And make it plausible when you see me on the viewscreen, or I'll be in trouble. We both know how observant Tuvok is."

Kattell snorted. "If he's the best the Federation has to offer in security chiefs, the Cardassian Empire is sure to win the next war. You told me yourself he had no idea I wasn't a Bajoran."

"Don't underestimate him. Not much gets by him. He was concentrating on me and my plans, not on whether I was harboring any other agents. Frankly, you were an ally of his under those circumstances, not a threat."

"Lovely," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'll be glad to see the last of him, at any rate, and I suppose you will too. Just remember, the moment you step on that ship, you're his superior officer. He'll follow orders." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lingeringly. "I hope this doesn't take too long. I want you back with me."

"One way or another, I will be." Chakotay twisted his smirk to the side.

The sled held only one pilot and had room for another person, or cargo, in the back. The Kazon he had injured showed him the controls and switches cursorily, his arm still in a sling from the dislocated shoulder. At least they were treating him with a little more respect now. But on a Voyager half filled with them, in their home territory, with new technology and growing knowledge of its weaknesses--how long could he and Kattell last in command? Chakotay hoped it would be for long enough to rescue the marooned crew, if he had to go through with the whole plan. How long could he last with Kattell? Once she had enough technical experience and had consolidated the new regime, he would become more and more expendable. And as for the other part of their relationship--she would be sadly disappointed in that very soon. It might come to that, however. He was still in the coils of a giant constrictor as long as she had Janeway in her keeping.

Once he had launched and dropped away from the ship, he wondered: if Kattell had ever let him help her find her animal guide, what would it have been? She did not trust his spiritual practices, and never had. Perhaps they delved too deep for her. Janeway had expressed interest and curiosity, if a bit flippantly; he smiled at the memory of unwrapping his bundle in her ready room. He had trusted her with his deeper self so quickly...

Would she be safe with Kattell? For the moment. He had made it very clear he would not agree to any plan that harmed those members of the crew who seemed intransigent to any change of command. The Cardassian needed his cooperation just now, and she would do what she had to keep it, however grudgingly. He didn't trust her, but he trusted her intelligence and resourcefulness. They had a solid plan now. She would not throw away advantage for the sake of hatred.

His tiny craft skimmed the surface of the planet, keeping low as if eluding detection. Only around the base was there much vegetation anywhere. A range of high brown hills dotted with scrawny cacti came up in his forward viewport. Chakotay adjusted his altitude to clear them. Some of his ancestors had roamed country like that, centuries ago. A hard life, but one rich in tradition. If he had grown up far from that heritage, helping to build a new one on another globe, he had done his best to remember where the bones of his grandfathers were buried. A low rhythmic song filled the cockpit as he sped on his way.

"VOYAGER TO UNKNOWN CRAFT. Please identify yourself."

At last. Chakotay stretched painfully in the cramped seat where he had spent the last two and a half hours. The fuel gauge was dropping low. Comm switch--there. He flipped it over.

"Harry--it's me, Chakotay. Tractor this damn thing on board, and make it quick. I'm not sure I can get much climb out of her."

"Commander? What--how did you--"

"Ask me later, Ensign. I'm glad you're all right," he added. The sled had no viewscreen, but Kim's voice was clear and alert.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Lieutenant--?"

"You may engage the tractor beam when ready," said Tuvok without a trace of surprise.

Voyager. Sleek, and white, and graceful, carving endless spirals in orbit, trailing her captain in silent duty. The sight shocked him with longing.

Torres was there with Tuvok in the shuttle bay to greet him, and startled him with a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes were wet.

"What the hell is that getup, Chakotay?" she asked when she finally stepped back.

"Well, you had to know sometime. I'm a deserter from the Cardassian military." He waited for her anguished groan to smile thinly. "I'm changing out of it on the double. I need a shower--actually I need fumigation--and a bowl of soup, anything--and then we've got work to do." He brushed past Tuvok and ran to the turbolift with the Vulcan following.

"Commander, where is Captain Janeway?"

"I had to leave her behind."

"Indeed?"

"It was the logical thing to do."

Tuvok's eyes were like stone. All right, that was a badly timed joke, Chakotay thought, but at least the man could try to lighten up his expression a little...

Conversation would be difficult with this damned implant in his shoulder. Relayed by the communications buoy, the transmission carried every sound he heard directly to Kattell's ears. A tether, a fine strong line held him like a fish. She was letting him run, but the bait and hook held him, and the reel could snap back at any time. Chakotay tried to think of a good way to tell someone he was wired without arousing Kattell's suspicions. The problem was, as soon as they knew, their manner would change, their words become halting, the chances of a misstep increase exponentially. And it might take only one to end Janeway's life.

Tuvok insisted on debriefing him through the bathroom door, and he shouted over the roar of running water. Yes, the captain was unhurt. No, neither of them had been tortured for information. Yes, he expected Seska would ask for ransom again. No, he didn't think his escape would endanger the captain.

He deliberately walked out into the bedroom naked, rubbing his head with a towel. Tuvok raised an eyebrow and finally left for the bridge.

Neelix was in his mode as Morale Officer, and rang the door chime with a huge tray of oddments and a blessedly hot tureen of vegetable soup, sans leola root, while Chakotay was getting dressed.

"And how is our good captain?" he asked anxiously as Chakotay struggled into a uniform and tried to eat at the same time.

"She's well," he replied. "And I'm trying to keep her that way."

He jogged down the corridor to the lift, drummed his fingers as it hummed upwards, stepped out of it a little breathless. Tuvok rose, and all the bridge crew turned with various attitudes of attentive worry.

"I trust you are refreshed--" Tuvok began with an air of faint reproof.

"I am, thank you, and there's no time for a formal briefing," Chakotay said. "I have a plan, and it's going to take a lot of work, so we'd better get started on it now. Some of you are not going to like it very well--" he looked at Tuvok "--and so I will remind you--

"In the captain's absence, I am in command now."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

KATTELL SAT at the built-in table in her quarters, eating a meal slowly, ignoring Janeway. She hadn't even given her anything to drink. Possibly just as well, since she hadn't offered to let her relieve herself either. Janeway studied the side of Kattell's face, evaluating all her options. Absolute silence and submission; reasonable requests; stern demands. Probably nothing she could say would persuade the Cardassian to do anything she didn't want to do. Her mouth was parched and her arms were aching, but she was not sure she should call any attention to her discomfort. Kattell would probably increase it if she could, and she had no moderating influence on her now that Chakotay was gone. Her behavior towards Janeway had been strange from the beginning. Every bit of their planning had been carried out in front of her--Kattell seemed to relish watching Janeway for reaction in any case. The Cardassian was a trained agent, experienced and ruthless, but her sheer joy in the situation, her excitability and intensity betrayed a mind not fully focused on her practical goals. Unless her goals focused on Janeway personally, and not just the acquisition of Voyager.

Alone with her. Kattell had a small pickup for the eavesdropping device she had insisted on implanting in Chakotay's shoulder, and was listening to it as she ate, the volume high enough for Janeway to hear some of the transmission. Silence so far, as he flew to intercept Voyager, except for a soft chant in his own language, and the steady sound of the engines. There--Voyager was hailing him, and the low hum of a tractor beam on the hull. He was safe, and home. Some snatches of conversation. B'Elanna's voice. A turbolift. Tuvok. Chakotay sounded impatient and brusque, almost angry, unfamiliar.

"Sounds good," said Kattell with satisfaction. She finished her meal and made a face. "Rotten stuff. No wonder he lost it; he always had a tender digestion. Silly of me to give him any of their meat; I should have gone to pick some fruit in the first place. Guess I wanted to see how adaptable he was going to make himself." She bit into something like an apple and chewed. "I don't suppose you ever cooked anything for him. Or even asked him what he liked to eat." She cocked an eye at Janeway.

"I'm his captain," she replied.

"I guess I'll take that as a 'no'," smirked Kattell. "You don't know much about how to keep a man comfortable, do you?" They stared at each other with open dislike. Janeway fought back the sharp words she wanted to use. Ignore her, she thought. She's baiting you.

"I know exactly what he likes," Kattell said, and stretched with a long sigh. "I haven't felt so well fucked in a long time. Not since the night we got separated from the rest and hid in the irrigation channels near that village--" Her mouth drew out in a wide, sly smile at Janeway's expression. She took a long swig from her water container, was about to cap it again, and then looked at it, shrugged, and put it on the floor by Janeway. "I suppose I don't want you dying on me just yet," she said. Janeway could not reach the container with her hands, as the rods of the shackles were too short. She had to bend over and seize the rim between her teeth, straining painfully, and lift it up so that she could hold it. Kattell watched her with a slight smile, running the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Janeway raised the container to her lips, conscious of severe thirst. The drink Chakotay had given her had been hours ago, and not enough, though probably as much as he had been able to steal.

Kattell's mouth had been on the container moments before. Janeway hesitated, then drank. Chakotay had managed to be far more intimate with the Cardassian than sharing a drink, and she could not let him surpass her courage. She finished the water, as there were only a few swallows left, and let the container fall.

"So, Captain," said Kattell. "Just you and me. Girl talk." She sniggered. "And whatever shall we talk about? So many concerns in common." She rose and took her jacket off to hang it up, then sat down on the mattresses and lounged in front of Janeway in her gleaming bodysuit, bare of ornament. Like a hide, seamless. Kattell rolled to her back and put her hands behind her head, placing one ankle on the bent knee of the other leg. "I always wondered what it would be like to talk to the captain, one on one," she said, twitching her booted foot and smiling at it. "You gave us those little pep talks as a group, and left most dealings with the Maquis up to Chakotay...that was wise, I suppose. Oh, I did appreciate being made an officer, by the way--I never told you that, did I? Made independent action a lot easier. And independent action was a necessity on a ship like that. I never had commanders acting so witless in my life." She glanced at Janeway. "That must have taken some doing. To give B'Elanna attacks of conscience. To rip the spine out of a man like Chakotay. He even told me and Jarvin he'd throw us in the brig for mutiny if we talked about backing him to take the ship--"

"Good for Chakotay," said Janeway.

"You like him like that, don't you," Kattell hissed, suddenly rolling over to face her. "You like 'em flexible and docile. Just snap your fingers and the puppydog comes sniffing around your ass. Humans have such ridiculous pets. Sit up, beg for scraps, put their heads on your lap, wanting their ears scratched. You want him tame. He's not tame, you know. But I had to remind him of that. I got some pretty good proof after I got you back here."

She touched a red mark on her throat, a bruise Janeway had noticed when Kattell had returned to the cell after Chakotay had run in to fight the Kazon. He had inflicted that? Her horror and disbelief must have shown, for Kattell smiled open-mouthed. "He can fuck like a Cardassian if he wants to. He was always so careful and sweet--and that's all very well, but a little long-winded sometimes. Not that I mind being licked for half an hour at a time, but..." She grinned at Janeway. "A few minutes of cock like his beats that any day."

This conscious sexual vulgarity-- Kattell is only baiting you, she reminded herself. She's not telling you her stories to pass the time...

"You actually never had him? Pity. Might have knocked some sense into you. I can just see it--he hauls you into the ready room, rips that awful uniform off--who designed those, anyway?--bends you over the desk and really hammers it in--except that you'd be dry and tight as your narrow little mind--" Kattell's nostrils were flaring, her white teeth were protruding over her lip. "I doubt you've ever had it really good. You've probably whipped every man who ever knew you into submission, or just driven them off in stampedes. If Chakotay was kowtowing to you in one day, the average Human male must have fainted dead away when you walked in the room. Or when you opened your mouth. Now, you should meet Gul Edak, or--" She cast around for a moment, then continued in an exaggerated laughing drawl, "--the Legate I had to screw to get the letter of recommendation to the Order--or just a squad of good Cardassian soldiers. I wish I'd been able to let the Kazon have it off with you. Problem is, they wouldn't have left much."

She rolled to her feet and crouched over Janeway. Leered into her face. "I need you a little longer. Tuvok needs to see you're alive, and Chakotay does have a Human moral conscience. Fine, I can afford to keep that salved for a while. Men are really very easy to deal with if you just let them think they're getting their way. Cardassian, Human, Kazon--oh, Culluh was ranting about how you had bearded him--you really hurt his little feelings, you know." Kattell snorted. "If you had just tried letting him save some face, giving up that disabled ship to him, or done in the first place what I had to do in your stead--"

"Hand over technology, in direct violation of the Prime Directive, to a group known for its violence and ruthlessness? Cooperate with someone capable of having a man poisoned so that he couldn't give out information?" Janeway wasn't sure if it was wise to speak, but she burst out at Kattell anyway. "You may think you were doing the right thing, but I believe you're in over your head."

"I don't think so, bitch," Kattell hissed. "My way of doing things makes a lot more sense than yours. And what makes you think I'm out of my depth dealing with people who use the methods that work? I'm trained in that. I respect that. I know what they're capable of, and I can do 'em one better. You're the one at a disadvantage there. I could have told you that saving a wounded Kazon's life wouldn't mean much to Culluh. You went to a lot of effort for nothing--"

"We found you out, didn't we?"

Kattell drew her lips back from her teeth and pulled her small chin back in a curiously animal-like gesture. "You'd never have done it without Chakotay's help. All right, I underestimated him that time; I thought I had it squared away with the soup and reminding him how nice it was to have a warm cunt around. I didn't realize he was planning bigger things--say, I'm curious--just how did he try to jump you? Pretty recently, I gather."

Janeway was silent, but memories roiled in her brain. She's wrong. She has it all backwards, all twisted to fit her views on how the world works. Why is she so obsessed with my relationship with him? Her agenda is not wholly clear-eyed.

Kattell watched her face. "Oh, yes, you liked him, didn't you? Don't blame you. I thought it was going to be a chore screwing a Human--though some of the images in his dossier showed promise. I'd heard the males were boring, though tender-skinned as boys, and very solicitous--mmm, the rumors were right on that last. Then I met him, and I knew this was the best job I'd ever had. OK, bad food, physical hardship, so what. If only I'd been able to do it in my right body--" Kattell broke off, strode to the opposite bulkhead and leaned on it a moment. "That's the worst part of this situation," she said after a pause. She looked at her hand, stretched it out in front of her. "I seriously doubt anyone in this quadrant could do the surgery and the genetics to remake me in my own image--heh--even if they knew what a Cardassian looked like. These ridiculous nose ridges." She rubbed forefinger and thumb along them. "Even looking Human would have been better than this. Those Bajoran whores, luring Cardassian men away from their families-- Frankly, I don't think it would have made much difference. Any man who could do it like that in front of you--" Kattell drifted to the spot where she had lain with Chakotay and curled up on the mattresses again. "Was it good for you too, Captain?" She rolled her lids up at Janeway and grinned.

Janeway felt a chill, a prickle of goosebumps over her bare arms and legs, but she set her lips and said nothing.

"He wants you. He wants his captain wriggling under him--no, pardon me, he probably wants you sitting on his face and issuing orders. He likes a woman who takes charge of the situation. You pulled the rug out from under him, and he started panting around after you. Turned him on, I suppose. And you either didn't see it or thought you were above all that. Idiot bitch. Even Culluh's not that dumb."

Janeway drew in a breath. So the Cardassian wasn't loath to use herself for any goal she had...

"So now I've taken the...tool you wouldn't use. He won't need to pretend in a little while. He'll be screwing the one in charge, and this one is going to appreciate it. This one is going to do everything right that you've been doing wrong. Seems he likes to be the power behind the throne. He was all right as a captain, if a little too emotionally involved--you wouldn't believe what it took to soothe him down after a bad day cleaning up behind my countrymen. Needs some guidance, really. He's a wild animal when he's really angry. But he'd be a wonderful weapon in the hands of someone who knows how to aim him. And sex can aim any man. Power is an aphrodisiac--don't I know it; that Legate was about a hundred and twenty, but he left me sore for a week. And I was in better shape then. I looked like myself." Kattell rolled over on her stomach and lay prone in the same position into which Chakotay had pressed her.

"But this face is almost Human, and the hair was fortuitous. Gosh, we could almost be sisters." She grinned evilly, reached up and pulled her hair forward, stroking it, beginning to undulate her body against the deck. "Oh, I liked having you there. Making you watch, and feeling him squirm--he was always concerned with privacy. Delicate sensibilities to go with the digestion. Well, if he could overcome that, and make love to me so, so-- I knew he was good, but that was like nothing I've ever done. Not on Cardassia, not even with him before." Her big eyes were glowing, her face dreamily sensual as she spoke almost to herself. "I thought I was on fire. I felt...like I'd come home. That's how he would make love to his captain, and I'm going to take her place. Perfect. Perfect. Aahh--" She shivered, and her eyes closed, and she let out a long sigh.

Good God. Janeway pulled herself up to sit straight-backed against the bulkhead. And I'm alone with her...

Kattell's eyes blinked open and refocused sharply on Janeway at the sound of her movement. She pushed up on her hands, leaning forward, and smiled, speaking softly, running the tip of her tongue over her teeth.

"Actually, once we're set up, it won't be all that different from what he had planned anyway. Just substitute me for you. He's a little slicker than I thought--though I guess he didn't anticipate what a tightass you really are. A patient man, though. I'll admit that's a failing of mine. He'd have waited a while and tried again--how the hell did you turn him down? Either he really blew it, which I doubt, or you are the most frigid bitch alive. You want him, I know. You still do. And you turned him down. Kicking yourself yet? Too bad. Too late. He's mine now."

She's wrong, Janeway thought, she's wrong, she has it all twisted, all reflected from her own dark thoughts, but she's right as well, I do want him, oh Lord, I could have had something he offered me...not what she assumes it was, something pure like fire-- She had made a decision. It was the right one, no matter what her body had told her to do. Or so much of herself-- She admired and respected Chakotay as her first officer, as a sincere and passionate man devoted to his duty. Even more now that she had seen his integrity tested so severely. She wouldn't put that relationship at risk for any whim of her own. It wouldn't be right to indulge herself the way this woman did. Unbridled hatred, lust, treachery lay down that road. She would wish Voyager destroyed before it fell into Kattell's hands. If her plans carried through somehow, if Chakotay had to play it to the end, he would find some way to get Janeway and Tuvok back on board. There was the loophole in her plan, as she had seemed to know before Chakotay insisted otherwise. Leaving us here on the planet--while there's life, there's hope. I doubt that's a current saying on Cardassia--

"I'll be rid of you soon," said Kattell meditatively, mirroring Janeway's mood. "I'll get out of this smelly little bucket, and I'll move into your quarters and throw away all your stuff, and use your closets for my clothes, and sleep in your bed. And I'll screw the man you want, and take your ship where I need it to go. Give orders to your crew." She scooped her hair up and wrapped it in a knot, held it to her head. "You don't have anything left. It's all mine now. Everything you have is mine."

She slid over, sitting very near Janeway, and touched her bare knee lightly with a fingertip. "This is wonderful. Delicious. Just like this. You and me, no one to interfere." Kattell leaned forward so that her hair slithered over her shoulders, fell over her face like Janeway's. "Kathryn. That's your name, isn't it? I like it. Kat, he called me. What a lovely coincidence." Her hand was crawling up Janeway's thigh. "If I didn't know better, I might keep you. Just chain you to the wall in my quarters and let you watch all the time. I want you to know what's happening to your ship. I want you to know what I'm doing. But I'll have to settle for less." Her face was a handspan from Janeway's. The captain tried to stare her down, her skin shrinking at the contact, the cool palm on her thigh. The eyes were hungry, insatiable.

"Did he ever kiss you?" Kattell whispered. Janeway shuddered involuntarily and felt her face twitch. "Guess so." The Cardassian moved even closer. Janeway fought for calm. "That belongs to me too. He's mine, and has been from the moment I saw him. I own him, every square centimeter."

All on the surface. "Now who wants him tamed?" said Janeway evenly, and Kattell flinched back.

"Bitch." They stared at each other. Kattell broke the gaze, dropped her eyes, ran them over Janeway's body, took a deep breath. She rose and grabbed her jacket, shouldered into it. "Maybe I'll throw you to the Kazon after all. Take a holocamera, if I had one--" An empty threat. "I have to go check on my devoted comrades. Don't go anywhere." A sullen half-smile.

"Sometimes I wish I weren't so clever. Then I could do just what I wanted, when I wanted, instead of having to wait. I'll take a leaf out of Chakotay's book, and be patient." She looked Janeway over once more, licked her lips, and was gone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAKOTAY STOOD before the command chair on Voyager's bridge, and for the first time knew what it would be like to be her captain. The power under his hand now. Every head was turned to him, every expectation aimed in his direction. No one to relieve him at a critical point or take any decision from him. He knew what the command of his own small ship had been, but this was different. This was Voyager.

He looked over his shoulder at Ops and met Harry Kim's eyes, then at Tactical and saw Tuvok taking his station. Paris was half-turned in his pilot's seat to look at him, and Torres was at Engineering. The rest of the stations were all staffed, and the officers riveted on him.

"Obviously the first priority is the captain's rescue," Chakotay began. "It's going to be damn difficult. She's on Ka--Seska's ship, and will be shot at the first sign of trouble. We need a method of disabling everyone on that ship before they even know we're there. Seska had a plan that I think we can turn against her."

"How the hell did you get away, Commander?" Paris blurted out. "From what Rutskoi said, there were a dozen of them and Seska too--"

"Ten," Chakotay replied. "Two of them were stunned in the firefight by the hatch, and I never saw them again. And one is fairly well out of commission."

"Those two we took prisoner," said Tuvok. "They committed suicide shortly after regaining consciousness."

"Suicide?"

"They appeared to fear interrogation, and perhaps prisoners are not welcomed home again as in our cultures." The Vulcan's tone was bland and ironic, but something about it put Chakotay on alert.

He looked at Tuvok again and realized that intent stare had an element of suspicion in it. Probably a professional habit, but he had better deal with it before it got out of hand. "I managed to persuade Seska I would work with her." Torres growled audibly. "I was her captain once, and I know her pretty well. Once I realized she was trying to get me on her side, I only had to...to play along. She's interested in a device we located in the base, and she sent me to look at it since she doesn't trust her Kazon crew. I took the opportunity and returned to Voyager instead. That's it in a nutshell. Janeway is in danger, obviously, but Seska won't kill her as long as she thinks she has something to gain by keeping her alive. Right now, she knows we have no reason not to pursue her and shoot her down if she has no hostages to threaten. So for the moment, the captain is safe."

"What's this device you mentioned?" asked Torres. "Something that could disable everyone on the ship at once? Some kind of broad- spectrum stun--"

"We'll need a large away team for security, and to operate the thing," Chakotay interrupted, "plus a shuttlecraft ready to transport some of them on board Seska's ship--this is going to be complicated. Torres--start working on ways to cloak a shuttle from her sensors. I'll select the away team. Mr. Tuvok, I want a detailed tactical analysis of the situation."

Silence for a moment, then Torres nodded and called Carey to take her place on the bridge. Paris wheeled in his chair and examined his console.

"Aye, Commander," Tuvok answered, and began to touch the control pads at his station. Chakotay let out a breath he had been holding and sat down. A moment to think. He was going to have to work pretty hard to make this sound plausible to Voyager's crew. There was a PADD lying on the monitor in front of him, and he picked it up, debating his options. Type some kind of message? Who to? Perhaps not Tuvok. Torres would take his word, but her reaction might be unpredictable. Carey walked out of the turbolift, and as Torres left for Engineering, she threw Chakotay an odd glance. Why hadn't Kattell thought out some of these things a little better--

Deliberately. She had saddled him with this implausible story deliberately. If he had to think on his feet just to avoid detection, he couldn't devote much time to a plan to betray her, if he had one. She had him wrapped so tightly he could barely move. He had command of Voyager and all its resources, but he was as much a prisoner as ever. Anger surged through him anew, its power nauseating him. Hands around her throat, squeezing the life out of her--

Chakotay was gripping the arms of the chair so hard his fingers squeaked against the metal. Had she stowed away in his skin somehow? He was thinking like a Cardassian. Command of Voyager? He didn't want it. This was Janeway's ship. Hers. He ran his hand through his hair, bowed his head for a moment. Perhaps he could take a few minutes and consult his guide, reconnect himself with the workings of his own mind. The image of his hands around Kattell's throat throbbed in his head. Once he had strangled a female Cardassian soldier for shooting farmers working in their fields. Chakotay remembered her look of surprise as he sprang into her sniper's post on a brushy hill above a village. Her face had turned dark grey above his desperate grip, her white teeth snarling brightly in death. But she had deserved it, and his phaser charge had been exhausted, and she would have shot him if he had given her a chance. Kattell had killed no one under his protection. Not yet. Nor was she threatening to kill him now. Where did this murderous fury come from?

A moment's respite, gods--

"Commander. Two Kazon warships, on direct intercept, warp five, distance one hundred million kilometers." Paris wheeled around again. "I think we've been spotted."

Chakotay was on his feet, not knowing how. "Red Alert!" he bellowed. "Shields up, full power to phaser banks." Officers scrambled as the lights dimmed, the glow of the consoles in sudden prominence.

"They will be in phaser range in two minutes, twenty seconds," said Tuvok. "Their shields are up, and their weapons are coming on line."

"Looks like she took some exception to your skipping out on her, Commander," said Paris.

Had Kattell called them? Was she actually working with the Kazon-Nistrim and not merely for her own interests? Chakotay tightened his lips and stared at the viewscreen. "I don't think so, Lieutenant. I think she's going to be just as surprised as we were."

"Even more so," said Tuvok. "As she is presently on the opposite side of the planet, and her sensors in all probability not as effective as ours, she will not detect them until she comes over the horizon."

"Over the horizon-- Paris! Take us out of orbit, now! If we have to fight, and move into Seska's field of view, she may panic and harm the captain before she realizes what's going on."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Voyager came about in a tight curve, and Chakotay thanked his gods that she was so maneuverable.

"Full impulse. Dive under them as they come in, and get us out of the orbital plane of this solar system. I want to be prepared to go to warp if necessary." This is a complication I don't need, he thought. Though I'd almost like to blow up a few--

"But the captain--"

"I'm aware of the danger to Captain Janeway, Mr. Paris. Full impulse!"

"Full impulse, aye, Commander." Paris bent to his console.

"The Kazon have dropped out of warp, and are veering off to intercept us," reported Tuvok.

"Open a channel to the lead ship, Kim."

"Channel open, sir." A familiar face, square-jawed and sneering, appeared on the viewscreen.

"First Maje Culluh. I am Commander Chakotay. My intentions are peaceful. Power down your weapons, and we will do so as well."

The face gained a speculative expression. "Where is your Captain Janeway?"

"She's indisposed," Chakotay replied. If Culluh spotted Kattell, and claimed her prisoner as his, he wouldn't give a rotten apple for Janeway's chances.

"How unfortunate," said Culluh with false politeness. "Convey my regards to her. What is your business here?"

"This is a neutral area. I might ask the same of you."

"Today it is neutral, yes. Tomorrow you may be trespassing. I am patrolling my prospective territorial claims, Commander Chakotay. Do you plan to claim it as well?"

"We're gathering food--if that is any of your business."

"That is all?"

"Yes, that is all. You were expecting something else?" He's wondering what's become of his personal transport and his errant ally, of course, Chakotay thought. She must be very overdue.

"I will speak to your captain," said Culluh.

"I am in command," replied Chakotay with a flash of anger. "Captain Janeway is not able to speak to anyone."

"How convenient. She allows her subordinates to greet me while she is otherwise occupied."

"I assure you, Maje--"

"What could be so important, I wonder? Perhaps the interrogation of prisoners? Perhaps the investigation of a captured vessel--?"

Oh damn, he's feeling pretty confident today, Chakotay thought. "Culluh, we have no prisoners to interrogate," --that at least was the literal truth-- "and have captured no vessels. Captain Janeway--"

"You will return my property to me--"

"Open your ears, Culluh," Chakotay snapped. Time to show him we're not afraid of him. "We don't have anything of yours." Well, we have a little sled with a low fuel gauge-- "You didn't mind taking property stolen from us, and I will not listen to your accusations." He gestured to Kim to cut the channel. The sneering face disappeared. "Mr. Tuvok-- where is Seska? Has she seen the Kazon?"

"Curious," said Tuvok, staring at his console. "Ensign Seska's ship should have come into view by now."

"She's not there?"

"I cannot detect any trace of her."

"What--" Gods. Of course. She heard all that on the eavesdropping device, and she's landed and hidden in the underground hangar. She doesn't want Culluh horning in on her leverage. If Tuvok deduces that she's got a bug on us and says so, I'm sunk. Chakotay put a hand to his right shoulder. Janeway's life was hanging by a phrase...

"Never mind," he blurted out. "It's the Kazon we have to worry about right now. What's their weapons status?"

"Still at full power, and now within range."

"Kim--"

"They're hailing us, Commander."

"Open the channel." Perhaps the man would listen to reason--

"I will give Captain Janeway one more chance to face me," snarled Culluh. "If the woman will treat me with such disrespect and flaunt her markings in Kazon space--"

"You sound more sure of yourself than you have any reason to, Culluh. Photon torpedoes ready?"

"Torpedoes ready for launch, Commander," replied Tuvok. "Phasers at full power, and locked on target."

"Hear that, Maje? I'll give you one more chance. I am acting in command of Voyager, and I mean you no disrespect, but if you fire on me, I will return it. In spades. I am confident that Voyager can handle both of your ships, but I don't want anyone to die for posturing's sake. When we have finished our business here, we will leave, but not one second before." The sneer twitched. He's overextended his threats, Chakotay thought. He knows it, but he's angry, and losing face--

The screen went blank as the channel was cut from the Kazon side, and Voyager rocked with a volley.

"Fire phasers!" Chakotay roared. He leapt to the forward weapons console and executed the order himself. The hot red beam lanced out, playing over the giant beetle-like form of the Kazon ship.

"Direct hit on Kazon forward shields," Tuvok reported. "Damage sustained, shields at fifty percent."

"Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Paris--lead them away from the planet. Mr. Kim--report!"

"Minimal damage to starboard shields. No casualties--" Voyager rocked again, and the crew had to hold their consoles for stability.

"Another hit on starboard shields. Down by twenty percent."

"Firing phasers." Chakotay hit the console again. Voyager turned and dove, directly towards the two Kazon vessels, turning on edge to slip between them. The blue bolts of Kazon weapons crisscrossed between the vessels as their targeting systems followed Voyager. The shields flared, but held. Chakotay saw a spray of debris from Culluh's ship. Paris grinned and Voyager righted again as he stroked his fingers over the console, then sped away in the direction of the system's sun. Crazy hotdogger--but the Kazon were responding slowly, obviously taken aback.

"Damn, this is a beautiful ship," Chakotay heard the pilot say.

"Our shot missed the lead Kazon vessel, but the second ship's phasers have damaged its engines."

Paris laughed at Tuvok's report, and pumped a fist in the air.

"The second ship is in pursuit, and has locked on weapons." There was a flash and jolt as Voyager was hit.

"Port nacelle, moderate damage," called Kim.

"Commander!" shouted Torres from Engineering. "If there are any more hits to the engine systems, we could be in big trouble."

"Let's waste a photon on them, Tuvok," Chakotay said, relinquishing the weapons console to the duty officer. He turned and sat in the command chair. "Target the shields again. I don't want them unable to beat it out of here."

"Engineering reporting injuries," Kim continued.

"Photon torpedo locked on target."

"Fire."

"Firing torpedo." A flare of hot light showed on the viewscreen.

"Direct hit on forward shields. Shields down."

"He's a sitting duck, then. Lock on phasers, but don't fire until I give the order."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

"Second Kazon ship is breaking off pursuit. Returning to lead ship."

"Perhaps they've seen the error of their ways. And about time, too."

"Lead ship is hailing us, Commander."

"On screen."

Culluh's ugly face again. "My associate has persuaded me to fight another day, Commander. Have no doubt that I will. I will return, and soon, and your tricks will avail you nothing against us." Chakotay made an impatient gesture of the head, and Kim cut the link.

"Kazon vessels retreating."

"Return us to the planet as soon as they're out of the way."

"Aye, Commander."

"Kim--dispatch repair crews to the starboard shield generators, and to the port nacelle. Engineering--casualty report."

"A fall off a ladder, and the person underneath," said Torres. "Both knocked out cold. Kes is here and taking care of it. And the nacelle looks repairable, since we only took one hit."

"Cancel Red Alert," said Chakotay, and sat back in the command chair. Not bad for his first outing in an Intrepid-class vessel. "Thank you, Mr. Paris, Mr. Tuvok. Good work." He took a deep breath, and smiled at his own satisfaction.

That was the last moment of pleasure he had in command of Voyager.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

HOW COULD SHE BEAR IT? He knew that Kathryn Janeway was made of sterner stuff than most, but the toughest captains Chakotay had ever known might have broken in the Delta Quadrant. This command was different from any other in Starfleet. Utterly alone, no backup, no reinforcements, no resupply. Even the loose organization of the Maquis had provided him with some sense of context and order, of a higher authority to which he could refer. To someone used to the firm directives of Starfleet Command, Voyager's isolation must be disorienting. Even frightening. Not from the dangers of enemies alone, but from the remoteness of everything that gave guidance. The weight was directly on her shoulders. Every life, every death. And the stern dictates of conscience and moral training. From what could Janeway draw her strength and her sense of direction? If she could not rely on others, she must strengthen herself. For the first time Chakotay realized some of the motive for what he saw as her rigidity. As first officer, he could indulge in flexibilities of thought that the captain could not allow herself. He had to think like a captain now, and a captain with the greatest responsibility in Starfleet. He wasn't sure he liked that.

"WE'VE RESUMED equatorial orbit, Commander. Seska's there, all right. I tried to keep out of her way, but she must have seen the Kazon."

"Thank you, Mr. Paris. Let's hope she won't hold them against us."

"Yeah," replied the pilot, briefly and soberly.

Chakotay hit an intercom button. "Torres--report. How are the repairs coming?"

"Another ten or twelve hours, Commander," she replied over the comlink. "This was not a good time to get into a fight, and when I say something like that--"

"Yeah. Twelve hours?"

"Just to get the basic functions restored. We're limited to impulse until the plasma injectors are replaced--eight hours, minimum. And until there is a complete overhaul, warp capability will be limited. We'd better hope we don't have to go anywhere fast."

"Tuvok estimates the Kazon will be back with reinforcements within thirty-six hours. Possibly a lot sooner."

"We'll be able to move before that. Warp Two certainly, possibly Three or Four. But the captain--"

"Will not get rescued if we're blown out of space."

"Sure. But you've got to tell me more about that device if we're going to plan this thing. Why are you being so vague? Is there something--"

"Don't worry about it, Torres. Your priority is repairs. Keep me posted on your progress." Chakotay cut the link. Damn, he thought. Nearly dead in the water. Another ten-ton weight on his back.

His options were narrow enough as it was. Plan the false rescue audibly for Kattell's hearing, keep her confident for Janeway's safety. Hope that nothing she heard would spook her. Try to think in between breaths. He turned to look at Tuvok, and was met with a cold stare that cut off the words he was forming. Damn.

"Commander," the Vulcan said. "Since she apparently took shelter to avoid detection, it is possible that Ensign Seska was able to intercept--"

"We'll discuss that later, Tuvok," Chakotay replied, too abruptly. "Where's that tactical analysis I asked for?"

The security chief's gaze grew perceptibly chillier. "I shall commence work on it immediately, Commander."

"You do that," said Chakotay, and slumped back into the command chair, his heart pounding. He had to tell Tuvok he was wired for sound, but it was going to look like a trick, a double bluff, since the suspicion was already there. He glanced back again to see Tuvok dabbling at his console with a grim look to his calm. Damn. Damn. He could type something on a PADD and hope--

"Sickbay to Commander Chakotay."

"Go ahead."

"The injured technicians have regained consciousness," said the doctor's voice. "I will be keeping them for observation for another twenty-four hours at least."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be down to see them when I can."

"And I was only recently informed that you had escaped and returned to the ship. As a matter of fact, I was not informed that you and the others had been captured in the first place, and only found out when Ensign Kim and Crewman Rutskoi were brought to Sickbay."

"Sorry about that." Chakotay couldn't help smiling.

"I'm getting used to it," the doctor replied with heavy sarcasm. "These little surprises do keep me on my toes. Are you in good health, Commander?"

"Fine."

"You were not treated as badly as the others, then? Fortunate for you. But I think a medical scan would be in order."

"No." Chakotay tried to sound casual, but Tuvok would add that to his list of clues, of course. "I'm afraid I don't have time for that. Chakotay out." And he had to think how to truly rescue Janeway, weigh whether the risk of going along with Kattell's plan to maroon part of the crew would pay off. Perhaps that would be the safest route. That would give him time to plot his next move. Right now, time was a rapidly diminishing resource. Time, and every mental and physical reservoir he had. His head ached, his eyes stung from fatigue, and his soul writhed in restless fear. Gods and ancestors, a moment's respite.

"THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT, Chakotay."

"Would you mind telling me just what isn't important right now?" Kurt Bendera had his com badge half muffled in his hand, but Torres could hear every word, and even the sarcastic tone of Chakotay's voice over the comlink. She looked up at Bendera from her station at an engineering console and smiled, briefly.

"I know. It's--I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but B'Elanna practically ordered me to, and I certainly had to agree with her."

"Is she there?"

"Yes. But she's trying to finish the repairs on the port nacelle. If that doesn't happen, the whole question is going to get decided for us. By the Kazon."

There was a long pause before Chakotay answered.

"And you think this could turn serious?"

"Maybe. I think they're trying to get up a group to come to you, demand that you take off and leave Janeway behind. There isn't exactly a lot of agreement about that right now, but this meeting might create it, and once that's happened--"

"Mutiny?"

"If you're there, maybe not. If you aren't there..."

"All right, I get the picture. Are all the Maquis going to show?"

"About half of us, I think. Some didn't get told, and of course a lot of us are on duty in Engineering trying to get the repairs done. B'Elanna told me to go, but I wish she would come. I might need backup."

Chakotay chuckled sardonically. "Better not tell Chell unless you want it...broadcast...to the entire quadrant."

"He got told."

"Great. Only a matter of time before everyone will know. Before Tuvok-- When is the meeting?"

"Ten minutes. In Dalby and Gerron's quarters."

"Gerron? You've got to be kidding."

"It's mostly Dalby, I think. Well, not really him--he's just the kind of guy who'll go along with whoever's talking the best game, and make it sound like it was his idea. You know."

"Yeah, I know. Who's talking the game?"

"Jarvin. And Hogan. Maybe Jonas, but he's not saying much."

Torres heard something unintelligible from Chakotay.

"Yeah, what you said." Bendera laughed quietly. "See you there, Captain."

"Don't--call--me--that." The words were soft and dead even.

"Uh...sorry, Commander. I didn't--"

"Chakotay out."

Bendera turned and looked at Torres. "Gee, he used to like a good bad joke. What's his problem?"

"What isn't his problem?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now. But...he's been so mellow since we signed on here, and now he's back to...I don't know, I keep getting flashbacks to the Badlands. He's so damn angry."

"He just spent two days with Seska. And didn't get to kill her, and probably had to watch her beat up Janeway and not say a word." Torres slammed a fist on the console. "I wish she'd captured me."

"I'm glad she didn't," said a voice by her elbow, and she looked up to see Carey.

"Oh...hell. What are you doing here? Your shift--"

"Lieutenant," he continued, "if there's some place you think you need to be for a few minutes, I can take over for a little while." He drew in his lips and glanced down, then up at her again, his blue eyes calm. Torres looked at him, then glanced at Bendera, who shrugged eloquently.

"Thanks," she said, held Carey's gaze for a moment, then slid out from behind the console. "It's the coolant stacks--"

"I've got a handle on it. Don't worry."

"Thanks," she said again, and strode out of Engineering with Bendera.

POSSIBLY AN UNAUTHORIZED transmission, thought Tuvok, staring at the readout on his console. Minimal power, in all probability audio only, and low fidelity. The readings are intermittent, on a low subspace band, and seem to originate from the bridge. Curious. I should inform the commanding officer. That is correct procedure.

Tuvok looked up at the back of Chakotay's head. He recalled seeing him dressed as a rebel, holding the shoulder of a traitor, his soft voice gone brittle, his expression unfathomable.

The logical course? Sometimes he might have to bypass correct procedure. Captain Janeway had taught him a great deal about the use of indirection, and conversely, of straightforward action when indirection failed. He had not always applied those lessons well, unfortunately, and he felt himself at fault in that. Her instincts in such matters were nearly faultless, and her opinions invariably instructive. He was made far more aware of her absence by the fact that another sat in her place.

His com badge beeped, and he touched it and spoke quietly into it, then broke the link. He worked at his console for a few more moments, frowned, and stepped forward.

"Commander. I have a concern that I must share with you."

"Finished that analysis already, Lieutenant?" said Chakotay, barely glancing up from the PADD he was working on.

"No, sir."

The dire glance Tuvok received might have made a Human take a backward step. "Then what is it?"

"I would prefer that we speak in private, Commander."

Chakotay sat back in the command chair and looked him in the face. "I'm a little busy, Tuvok--" he began. The Vulcan raised a brow and waited. Chakotay let out a small sigh. "The ready room?" he asked, rising.

"The briefing room, if you please," Tuvok replied. There was a little snap of tension in his voice, though he kept it otherwise level. Tuvok had followed every order Chakotay had given him, had let Torres express all the doubts about the away mission and the rescue, had slipped into the role of acting first officer as if he had been preparing for it for years. But too many disturbances intruded for serenity of mind, and the absence of the captain was only the greatest of them. This matter, the one waiting in the briefing room, might enlighten him on the larger picture. Chakotay led the way after handing the bridge to Paris.

A pale-haired woman in the gold-shouldered uniform of Security stood against the far end of the room, staring out the viewport. She turned and brushed Chakotay with a quick, reluctant look, just enough for recognition, seemingly not wanting to leave her eyes on him any longer than necessary.

"Rutskoi," he said. "I hadn't seen you--are your injuries--"

"I've been healed, Commander," she said, level and steely. She turned and stared out the viewport again.

"I asked Crewman Rutskoi to come here as the first stage of an investigation," said Tuvok.

"Investigation?" Chakotay looked at him incredulously. "Don't we have enough--"

"She has made some disturbing allegations about your conduct while on Ensign Seska's ship," said Tuvok. He watched as Chakotay's face darkened and his cheeks hollowed, the hard line of his jaw giving him an aggressive air.

"Apparently Ensign Kim was...sexually assaulted...while a prisoner."

Chakotay let out a harsh breath and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "That's right. He was under the influence of a powerful drug at the time. Does he remember it?"

"Not clearly. The doctor decided to inform him after considering Crewman Rutskoi's statements. She came to me immediately afterwards."

"How did Kim take it?"

"Surprisingly, he seemed relatively undisturbed," replied Tuvok with genuine puzzlement. "His words were to the effect that if it had not bothered him at the time, he would not dwell on it now."

Chakotay shook slightly with a silent chuckle. "Harry's tougher than he looks--"

"You just let her do it, you Maquis bastard," said Rutskoi suddenly, wheeling in Chakotay's direction, but still refusing to meet his eyes. Every word was a splatter of venom. "You just stood there and watched her! You get off on that kind of thing?" Tuvok saw Chakotay jerk, but Rutskoi raged on. "You were fucking her all along, she was part of your bunch of filthy terrorists--you're a traitor just like her. You're back here only because she let you go for some reason. You have no right to command Starfleet officers--"

"Crewman," Tuvok cracked out, "you will refrain from using such language to your superior officers."

"I'll apologize to you, Lieutenant, but to this Maquis scum, never."

Chakotay seemed to be breathing with difficulty.

"Why has everyone forgotten he's a criminal? We set out to arrest him, not hand over command of the ship to him. You should have been first officer when Cavit was killed--why the hell didn't Janeway put you there?"

"Crewman--"

"Just a moment, Lieutenant," said Chakotay. He walked around the conference table and confronted his accuser, who stood shaking with rage, clenched fists tucked under her folded arms. A strand had escaped from her upswept bun.

"Answer me one question, Rutskoi. What is the ultimate source of authority on this ship?"

"What?" she snapped.

"Who makes the final decision? Whose word is law?"

"The captain, of course," she said.

"One particular captain? Or anyone who sits in that chair?"

She flicked her eyes to his face, finally. No reply. Tuvok raised both brows. Chakotay leaned in closer and spoke with a bitter edge and gradual crescendo.

"You follow Captain Janeway's orders because she is the legitimately constituted authority on Voyager. Not because of who she is as a person, though that has a lot to do with why she's in authority in the first place. She'd be the first to tell you that personal loyalty, likes and dislikes, is not what runs a starship. It's discipline. The discipline that says, 'I am a Starfleet officer. I follow the orders given me unless they are illegal or subvert the ship's mission. I do what I'm told when Captain Janeway tells me to fire on an array that is the only means I know of to get back to everything familiar. I don't do it because she's Janeway, but because she's the captain.' If Janeway had been killed instead of Cavit, if he had been acting as captain and had given that same order, it would have been obeyed just as unhesitatingly."

Silence, the two Humans projecting emotions so strong that Tuvok could nearly feel them through the air.

"Am I right?" The phrase like the strike of a fist.

Rutskoi's face was tight with sullen anger, but she nodded briefly. "Yes, sir. I get the point, sir. May I be dismissed?"

"You may," replied Chakotay, and sagged slightly when she had gone.

"Mr. Tuvok," he said. "Seska was--well, proving a point. I did everything I could to prevent Ensign Kim from being assaulted. It wasn't much, and Rutskoi's eardrums were broken; she couldn't hear."

"Crewman Rutskoi's accusations seem to be at least partially motivated by emotional considerations that have no place in a properly conducted investigation, and the situation appears to have been a complicated one," replied Tuvok.

"That's putting it mildly," said Chakotay, and leaned wearily on the back of a chair. "How about it, Tuvok?"

"Perhaps it would be best to defer this inquiry, in light of the circumstances--" Tuvok began.

"Everything's in light of the circumstances, you damn Vulcan. The nuances of emotional states and individual reactions. If you can't take those into account, you've got a blind spot the size of a moon." Chakotay spun the chair sharply and let it rebound against the table. "Now let's drop all this damn nonsense about 'criminals' who never had a choice about the crime." He stalked past the silent lieutenant and through the door.

"STAND AND FIGHT, that's what I say. Kill enough of them, and they'll know better next time." Suder's voice was low and whispery, but carried, clear-edged as a shadow in bright sunlight. "Knock out their shields. Transport a few squads on board with hand weapons. I'd like to get the chance to kill some Kazon." Torres looked into his unnaturally dark eyes and grimaced, but did not reply.

"Where the hell is Chakotay?" she murmured to Bendera. "This is getting ugly."

"Look, they are probably coming back with four or five ships. Maybe more. And we can't outrun them, not now--right, Lieutenant?" Hogan leaned towards her and gestured at Suder. "He's nuts. We can't stay here to get slaughtered. If we leave now, we can get away. Every minute we stay, we're in worse danger."

"I would really have to concur with that, actually," Chell piped up. "It's sheer foolishness to hang around, and what's the use of getting Captain Janeway back if we get a Kazon armada blasting us into dust a few minutes later? Wouldn't you call that a zero-sum transaction? I certainly would. Let's go to Chakotay and tell him that. I'm sure he's done the math, as the saying goes, and he'll see the sense in it, won't he? We'll be fine with him as captain, since he knows what he's doing, as far as I can tell--I'm no expert, of course, and of course I liked Captain Janeway very much. Don't get me wrong. She really was a fine leader, a fine officer, and it's just too bad. I liked Seska too. That was so disappointing when she turned out to be a Cardassian. I'm not sure I believe it yet, frankly, and I have no idea how that kind of surgery works. Doesn't bear thinking about, really. Ooohh." His fat blue face pursed up. "It's terrible to have to leave Janeway behind, but wouldn't she want us to, honestly?" Torres growled, but Chell forged on. "We're talking about one person, and there are a hundred and fifty--well, more like a hundred and fifty-two, if I'm not mistaken--at any rate, a lot of people on board, not to mention all our technology, and she's said again and again that it would be very bad to let the Kazon get hold of any of it. I can't see that we'd stand a chance against five, or six, or who knows how many ships. And--oh, spirits, we might get disabled and captured, and then we'd be prisoners. Ooohh, and I don't know how they'd treat Bolians. I just can't imagine anything worse. I just can't--"

"Shut UP!" said Torres. "You just can't shut up--"

"We go to Chakotay," broke in Jarvin. "We go to him and tell him we've decided it's not worth the risk, and that we want to leave."

"He may not agree with that," said Jonas, his eyes flickering around the circle.

"So what if he doesn't? He won't have much choice--" Dalby began.

"You're going to give the orders?" Torres scoffed. "Even if he thought getting the captain back was hopeless, he wouldn't take a vote on the options!"

"Um, yeah, you are talking about having him take over as captain--" ventured Gerron.

"Damn straight," shouted Bendera. "And if you lowlifes think you can run this ship on your own, you're...mistaken. Anyone talks about dictating terms to Chakotay again, and I'll pop 'em one. If he wants to stay here and rescue Janeway, we stay here, and we do our damn best to carry out our orders!"

Dalby smiled, and rubbed his chin. Jonas cast a quick look around again, and seemed to be formulating his thoughts.

"So we just stay here and die? What's the damn point?" Hogan flung his hands up and turned away.

"And you shut up!" Torres snapped. "We'll get the warp nacelle back on line, and the rescue's not hopeless. We'll be ready to get that device out of the base in a few hours, and he said it was our best hope. I know it sounds far-fetched, but he wouldn't rely on it if he didn't have reason to believe it would work. You've--got to have faith in him." Her voice cracked from sheer emotion.

"I'm glad at least one member of this crew takes my word these days," said another voice, soft and ironic. The door slid shut behind him, and Chakotay stepped forward into the sudden silence.

"Shit..." someone whispered.

Chakotay tucked his hands behind his back, flipping a PADD up and down, and made a slow survey of the room. Some of the occupants straightened up and looked him in the eye, and some stared sullenly at the floor. Torres smiled in relief.

When he finally spoke, it was with a faint smirk and a gentle edge, some kind of amusement dancing in his eyes. "So...when the cat's away, the mice will play?"

There was a general throat-clearing.

"I'm here for one reason, gentlemen. And it's not to hear what you've got to say. I don't care if you've decided anything among yourselves or not--"

"We know that," said Hogan, stepping forward. "You're in charge while the captain's gone."

"I'm glad you realize that."

"But, dammit, Commander, we've got a right to tell you what we think." Hogan swallowed hard and stood trembling. "Most of us aren't officers, but this is Starfleet, right? We're not supposed to keep our mouths shut when we have concerns." He met Chakotay's cool gaze, then squeezed his eyes closed as if expecting a blow. Torres held her breath, though she knew Hogan was not in physical danger.

"Go ahead," said Chakotay, gently.

"Ahh...umm..."

"Anyone else want to do the talking, then? Two minutes, and then your time's up. I don't have a lot to waste on this."

Silence again for a few moments, and then Jarvin stepped beside Hogan. "We don't think it's worth the lives of the whole crew to try to get Janeway back. We run the risk of handing Voyager to the Kazon if we stay here, or of having to destroy her and all of us along with her. If we leave now, we'll be safe." He cocked his head. "And you'll be captain. What's so awful--" He broke off at the brief snarl that lifted Chakotay's lip.

"Sometimes retreat is the best option," said Dalby, as if he were quoting someone.

"Not forever," Bendera shot at him. "They're everywhere. No offense, Chakotay, but Janeway's handled them pretty well, and I'd like to see her back on that bridge. We need all the leadership we can get."

Chakotay smiled. "Anything else?"

"Hey...this is Seska we're talking about, right?" Jonas made a nervous movement. "She's reasonable, isn't she? So she's making a power play. She'd have to, just to survive with those guys. We can work something out with her. She doesn't want to see us all dead." He smiled to show his prominent front teeth. "Give her what she wants, get the captain back, and we can go. Isn't that the simplest solution?"

"Out of the question. You know that."

"Because Janeway would say no?" Jarvin asked.

"That's right."

"Then what about simply leaving now? That wouldn't violate any Starfleet principles. We could be far away even at Warp Two before they come back, and she'd want the ship to be safe, wouldn't she? Would she say yes to the risk you're running just for her? Maybe you didn't get a chance to ask her, but what would she have said if you had?"

Torres saw many currents of thought behind Chakotay's eyes; his face changed color under the golden tone, and he rubbed his right shoulder with the fingers of his left hand. "We're not leaving," he said briefly.

"Sounds good to me," murmured Suder, and Chakotay glanced at him with narrow eyes.

"Commander..."

"Yes, Hogan?"

"I don't want to...die here...and I don't think anyone else does, either." His eyes were tear-filled. "Please, I don't want to die."

Chakotay was silent for several seconds, and Torres watched him grind his jaw. "No one's going to die." He looked at the room and met each pair of eyes in turn. "You've all said your piece. I've heard it. My decision's made, and it's not changing. Now get the hell out of here and back to your duty."

TORRES FOLLOWED HIM out into the corridor as the Maquis scattered and jogged slightly to keep up with him. Chakotay walked grimly on, not really knowing where he was going, ignoring her until she actually grabbed his elbow and spun him around.

"Chakotay!"

He let her see a glimpse of his mind, almost involuntarily, and she gripped his arm with Klingon strength.

"Dammit. You're actually thinking about it, aren't you? You're thinking about leaving her--"

"What did I just tell them?"

"What you wanted them to hear. But--what did SHE tell you?"

"Janeway? Nothing. I didn't speak to her." His heart was beating so hard he knew he was shaking, and he found himself clutching the implant site again, the incision still painful.

"My God. Jarvin was right. That's what she would have said-- 'Leave me behind and save the crew.' You can't do it, Chakotay!"

"I said we're not going anywhere."

"I know what you said! What the hell did Janeway tell you?"

"I--didn't--speak--to--her." He had never even tried to lie to Torres before.

"Chakotay--"

"If you ever want to see her--" He stopped. "Lieutenant, get back to Engineering. Get those repairs finished. It's the best thing you can do for her."

"Aye, Commander." Hurt and angry, with despair rough in her voice. Chakotay heaved a sigh as she turned away.

"B'Elanna."

Torres stopped, but did not turn around.

"I've got a lot on my mind. But I'll rest easier once we have warp drive restored. Everyone will."

Her whole body sagged, then tightened again, and her eyes were burning with painful tears when she looked over her shoulder. "You're in charge. You have to do what you think is best for the ship." She left him, and vanished into the turbolift.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

IN HIS QUARTERS, Chakotay took a few deep breaths, leaned against the inside of the door, and could not relax. He was not alone. The implant in his shoulder brought the Cardassian's presence into every room with him. She was sitting heavy on his back, legs wrapped around his neck, her hands on him, clutching, her lips searching for his, silencing him. He had to fight to keep from crying out loud at the image. Some kind of scream had been building in him for hours. The PADD with the message he had meant to give to Torres fell from his hand and hit the floor. He thrust the bursting urge down and took long breaths, closing his eyes, bracing his elbows against the door and resting his forehead on his clenched fists. He needed to meditate, obviously, and to try to contact his guide, before he could do anything else. What was he going to find in the inside of his own head?

Chakotay knelt and brought his medicine bundle and pouch out from their hiding place, took them to the low table in the sitting area, and laid the bundle's wrappings out to create a pad. The blackbird's wing, the stone from the river. He prayed in his head; the akoonah pulsed under his hand. Do I feel cool hands over my eyes? he wondered. Can that evil presence wrapped around me ward off every spirit but itself? He had to banish her, but at the same time he could not forget her listening ears. If he asked any question aloud, he might alert her to his state of mind. Searching, his eyes scanned back and forth under closed lids. Come and talk to me, he pleaded. Elder sister, come and speak to your brother. He needs you. Bring comfort and guidance with you...

Darkness. Not the familiar place, not the familiar yellow eyes. Chakotay groaned and his lids snapped open. Nothing. Not even the presence he had conjured the day before, the feeling that Janeway was with him. Cut off somehow, the little pellet of metal just under his collarbone sending a subtle poison throughout him. The anger, the violence in his thoughts, the meat he had eaten--his medicine was worthless. Panic seeped through him, cold and acid. I might have neglected my power once, he thought, but it has always been there, patient, as much a part of me as my limbs, and I knew that even when I scoffed at it as a boy. If it's gone, I'm paralyzed. Can the Cardassian even block the spirits from looking over my shoulder? Can she own me entirely, claim my soul the way she claimed my body? What did I leave behind me on her ship? What will I leave behind if I take this ship out of danger?

If I am powerless now, I might be powerless forever. If I let Janeway die, I might have killed everything important in me. He clapped his hands over his ears, seeing her face in the dim reddish light of Kattell's quarters, hearing her intense whisper.

"PROMISE ME," she had said. "Promise me you will not let your personal feelings intrude on that decision."

His com badge beeped, and he touched it instantly. "Chakotay here."

"Commander," said Tuvok, "We have just picked up a trace on long-range sensors."

"The Kazon?"

"Two vessels on the fringes of this system's Oort cloud, approximately one light-year from this sun. Will you report to the bridge?"

"I'll be there in a minute." Chakotay sagged and ran a hand over his face. "Only two ships?"

"I would surmise that they are waiting for additional ships to arrive. They were only detectable for a few moments until they moved off again, and probably cannot pick us up on their own sensors at this distance."

"I...there's something I have to take care of. Give me a little while."

"I would remind the commander--"

"--that he's acting as captain? I know that, Tuvok. I don't need reminding, dammit." Chakotay slapped his com badge, then tore it off on impulse and flung it into a far corner of his quarters. He heard it rattle against the wall, sprang up immediately and began to hunt for it, cursing silently. Couldn't lose that little thing, that badge that told Tuvok every instant where he was, that placed him at the call of the entire ship. Couldn't lose it, any more than he could lose the damned implant. There were two hooks in him, and he was scrabbling for one of them, hands and knees on the floor under the couch. Looking for it, to sink it into himself again and feel the tearing of his flesh. He was going to be ripped apart between them-- Chakotay sat down and put his head in his hands. Elder sister, he thought, where are you? Where is my power, or anything of my own thoughts? He was surrounded by the ship and its crew, but more alone than he had ever been in his life. Gods, I have abandoned you, I have strayed from the path of my ancestors. I have destroyed myself. I cannot hold myself up alone. Who will hold me up?

Wrapping tighter and tighter into himself, no core left, only a husk, the self vanished while under the mask. Frantically, he swept his hands over the floor, and grabbed his badge where it lay. The three points of the corners dug into his palm, and he kept his fist closed against the carpet, staring at it. He pressed his other hand to the implant site, his nails raking the skin through the material of his uniform. Tear it out, he commanded himself. Rip the incision open, force the damned thing out, crush it under your foot. Let the blood run down your arm and drip from your fingertips. Rid of them both at one blow. You're in command now. He let go of both badge and shoulder and slammed his fists against the wall.

Just leave orbit and run-- That bastard Culluh would undoubtedly keep his word and return with reinforcements. Two of them waiting already-- Voyager's survival might depend on flight. Janeway died, and her ship was safe for the time being, and that's what she had told him to do. Tear the implant out. Get rid of the hook in your flesh, snap the line that holds you. He'd have his own ship again, be a captain who'd never have to chafe at anyone else's scruples. He was not the powerless one here, but the one whose decision was the most critical. He held everything in his hand now; all the responsibility was his. No one to relieve him among a hundred and fifty.

He stood up, slowly, and walked to a cabinet, which he opened. A sharp flake of volcanic glass, from a place where the air had burned with sulfur and the ground had been warm under his feet. Chakotay picked it up and tested the edge with his thumb. He had struck this piece off from a larger core and chosen it as the raw material for a knapped point, a traditional weapon. The stuff fractured to a microscopically sharp edge. It sliced skin and muscle more cleanly than would steel.

A little bump, just behind the collarbone, barely detectable through the material of his uniform. Chakotay unfastened the front of his uniform and slipped the right shoulder down and aside. The neck of his undershirt pulled out of the way, and he could feel the thing clearly now, a painful little knot under the skin. He'd better take the shirt off all the way, or he'd soak the front with blood. He was going to get blood on his hands anyway. The pain wouldn't stop him.

When he had stripped to the waist and left the arms of the jumpsuit dangling, he took the flake of obsidian and knelt to brace himself. He'd better avoid medical scans for a few weeks until the gash had healed and all the evidence was gone. His mind was numb and dull, but he knew Tuvok would have plenty of questions. For the good of the ship, he had to deflect them. If he was the legally constituted authority, he had to seem above suspicion...

Why am I doing this? his mind hammered at him. For myself? To be Voyager's captain? To take all the weight on his shoulders? To make himself rigid and inflexible, to bear a job he wondered how to bear? Who was going to help him the way he'd helped Janeway?

She hadn't been alone. He had been there to hold her up even when she hadn't realized what he was doing for her. More and more, she had been turning to him for his support, and though there were setbacks, they had begun to move to the same rhythm. He had been trying to guide her, gently, and she had been letting him try. They might have managed to agree who was going to lead the dance at what points, eventually. But already, the first steps were mastered. Who was going to step forward as partner for him now?

Not Tuvok, that's for damn sure. He wanted to laugh out loud at the thought.

To save the lives of everyone in this crew, he realized, he would have to make his life hell. If he thought he was hearing problems with the Maquis now, just wait until he was no longer the way to shortcut procedure. Until Tuvok dealt with the personnel problems, and heard about the would-be mutinies before he did. And when Torres looked at him like a lung ngaghwI because he'd left behind the best captain she'd ever known. Lizard fucker--that was what he was, wasn't he? He'd confirm everything Rutskoi thought of him. How long could discipline hold out against personal dislike? It would be to everyone's sorrow if he got an answer to that question. The balance was so delicate. If Janeway died under these circumstances, the balance might never return. This ship would die a slow death instead of a quick one--

No. Tuvok wouldn't let that happen. He'd fight for Voyager. He might even call this a logical decision. He'd discount the emotions that went into it, and only look at the facts and Janeway's directive. I'll only be obeying her. He gripped the sharp flake more tightly, but did not raise it.

Can I obey her? Even Tuvok might turn and run now. The path had been pointed out to him. He put the edge of the flake to his throat, then slid it lower. A quick cut and it's out. Push hard so you don't have to do it twice--

He gasped at the burn of pain down his arm, and his hand jerked involuntarily away. The obsidian flake went spinning, but he let it go, sitting back on his haunches and trying to stop the blood with his fingers. He felt it trickling down his chest, and the hard lump of the implant, still in place, deeper than he'd realized. He should have known it would be more difficult than that to operate on himself. Instinctive self-preservation would prevail, no matter how clear the path. Chakotay hunched over, his eyes stinging.

But he didn't walk anyone else's path. He rebelled when it wasn't looked for, and he went along with situations everyone expected him to fight. He was an unbalancer, and he'd been almost proud of that in the past, but he had tried to keep everything flowing smoothly here for months. It had been working. Why had he made such a destabilizing move towards Janeway? What kind of flood had he released when he had showed her how he felt?

The blood trickle slowed, and stopped. Chakotay let his hands fall in his lap and stared at the dark stains. She had been trying so hard to put back what had spilled, and all he had done was feel sorry for himself. What an idiot he had been. She had been thinking of the crew, and he had been thinking he had been betrayed one more time. But she had given all of herself to him, overwhelmed him and herself with her own emotion. No matter what she would let herself do about it, she cared for him. Gods, he had made her forget her duty for a few moments. What greater proof could he have?

What in hell am I going to do?

Darkness. Chakotay covered his face with his bloody hands and tried to see nothing, but a little light traced a web in the spaces between his fingers. Somewhere in him, there had to be an answer, since there was no one else he could ask. No one to relieve him. Slowly he began to dress again, and fastened the front of his uniform, oblivious to the half- dried smear down his chest. Crawling back to the table where he had left his bundle and pouch, he stared at the talismans there. Useless, he thought. I'm poisoned. I'm thinking poison. If I had four days to sweat and pray and fast, I might get it out of my system. I might have four hours.

Unless I have a new medicine in my grasp. There is a gift that was given me, a dangerous one-- He touched the pouch, feeling the stone he had replaced within it, and knowing the little circlet of hair was there as well.

No. If I make full use of that, I will never let go of it. My captain, and her gift of herself, never to be repeated. I might starve for the want of her. How can I shackle myself like this? But I must have power, and she is my only weapon.

He slipped his hand into the pouch, drew out the stone, and stumbled to his feet. Somehow he was out in the corridor, leaning against the wall next to the panel and tapping in his security code to open the captain's quarters.

The door slid open, and he nearly fell inside. Darkness. The door shut, and he had not told the computer to turn on the lights. Nothing but starlight through the viewport, since Voyager was on the night side of the planet. Chakotay crawled across the floor, feeling his way around the furniture. He didn't have the strength to stand, so he found an open space and collapsed on the carpet. Curled into a ball, he covered his eyes. Just breathe for a while... He could smell her, her spicy odor, sweet and warm, carried in the dark air. Alertness, painfully focused attention, a hard edge of apprehension. He might have been in the same room with her, he felt her presence so strongly. Slowly he hauled himself up to a sitting position, and crossed his legs, and held the stone between his sticky palms, his hands drawn up to his chest. Breathe her air, he told himself. This is as close as you're going to get to her. Chakotay lowered his hands to his knees and let them open, palms up, the stone resting on his right hand. His heartbeat increased in spite of his relaxed posture, some outside influence driving it faster and faster. He began to hyperventilate helplessly until he was afraid he might pass out, and sagged, dizzy with oxygen. The stone slipped to the floor, a soft thump on the carpet that he barely noticed.

What was channeling this to him? Not anything of his making. Chakotay flung his hands out suddenly, his chest heaving. The line, the line that held him-- Janeway was on the other end. She was hearing him through the transmitter. The Cardassian was listening, and she would have the captain with her. The painful bump behind his collarbone. Here was a strange talisman, a thing meant as poison, an assault turned into a connection... Something taut and vibrating, something that transmitted both ways. Just the breathing, the beat of the heart, the life in each. She was lending strength to him again, across thousands of kilometers.

He bowed his head again, without his talismans before him. He had power.

...WATER MURMURING, talking over the stones, falling from terrace to terrace on its way to join the green lake. He stood on the opposite bank, and she did not realize he had returned. He could watch her without her knowledge, and study the way the sun traced its pattern through the leaves and over her face. The beautiful curve of her bones, the translucence of her skin, the shifting highlights in her hair. She smiled at nothing, then grew more thoughtful, sunlight dancing on deep water. Joy and wisdom, compassion and knowledge, desire and duty. The light burned in his chest to drive away the darkness. She raised one hand and brushed back a fallen strand of hair, and he crossed the stream to stand beside her.

He could not speak. He was invisible to her, and the shape in the trees behind him, the serpent, had followed him. It would cross the stream in his footmarks, and he himself had shown it the path. He had led it here. How could he warn her? It was coiling around his legs, darting its tongue out against his face, since it could walk upright like a Human. Perhaps it would be distracted by him long enough--no, gods, it slithered away and approached her. He could not speak--

"Elder sister, come to me. Elder sister...I have wandered, but I am not far. I am by the river, near where it joins the lake. Come and find me."

A rough-coated shoulder nudged his leg and a lean brindled shape brushed by him. Circled between them, four times around, then took one white hand between sharp teeth, gently. She started, looked up, and met his eyes. He could not speak, but he could look into the blue, like clear water, and see her begin to smile. But the serpent took her other hand, and darted out its tongue, and struck.

HE HADN'T REALIZED that death would hurt so much. Wasn't death the end of pain?

If so, why was he screaming so loudly?

His voice was raw, his own howling grinding in his ears, like an animal's, inarticulate, his throat torn with pain. He must be alive, then. Crumpled on the floor of Janeway's quarters, his hands clenched and shaking in tight claws. What had cut him this time? What had been cut--? No--no-- The line, had it gone slack? Was there anyone still drawing breath in unison with him?

Still with him, still with him. Her breath still moving, her blood still washing in her veins, her warmth still seeping through his limbs. The acuity of the contact was slowly fading, but the taut lifeline still trembled faintly with her vitality. He clung to it in desperation, trying to speak to her, groaning into the carpet, his face pressed to the floor. Kattell was with her, Kattell was listening to him and to her. If he spoke, Janeway would hear him--but he could not speak aloud. What had the Cardassian made of his cry? He waited for another shock, one that might destroy him utterly. Waiting, he felt the trembling, like the movement of eyes under closed lids, like Janeway's mouth when he had first kissed her.

The shock did not come.

Janeway was still with him, she wasn't dead; but she had thought she was dead for a moment, and he had felt her conviction of death, and realized what it would mean to him. As if his heart had been slashed out of him and devoured. The heart from his body, and the heart of Voyager. He was almost surprised to feel the beats still vibrating in his ribcage.

Chakotay's breathing gradually slowed, though his chest pounded so hard he could not get a full gulp of air. He shoved up from the floor and sat cross-legged again, and focused on the stars in the viewport. Slowly he registered his surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Janeway's desk, her sofa and table, the flower vases scattered around the room. Through the dark passage of the door, he could see the bedroom, and her bed.

A shudder, pure fire, went through him at the thought of her lying there, her pale limbs uncovered, her hair spread over the pillows. The power and clarity of the vision amazed him, and his weakness was such that he could not resist. Her scent drew him in. Chakotay rose to his feet and moved haltingly through the bedroom door until the bed stopped his progress. Again her presence was nearly palpable. The images in his mind crowded in until he gave in and let them enfold him.

...REACHING OUT, reaching out to embrace him and draw him down. Welcoming his weight on her. Naked for him. His uniform off his shoulders, the shirt pushed up, slipping his clothes from his body, her hands helping him. Pillowed on her, kissing her mouth, brushing his fingers under her thighs while she reached down to stroke him. His penis firm and swelling, his hips pushing against her, struggling the clothes off, lying skin to skin with the deepest of groans. Kissing her. Gentle, hard, soft and wet, bruising. Fingers trailing over her belly, arching and reaching, the moisture slick and fast. Crying out, wanting him. Pulling him over her, tilting to meet him, kissing him. Now. Now...

HE HAD FALLEN to his knees, his head resting on the bed, his arms embracing it. Not in surrender, but in reaching to lift some burden. If she would let him, he would lift and support all that he could carry. Was it wrong of him to need her so? To need her at all? Was it an insanity to want nothing withheld between them, to give himself utterly into her service? He could never offer, for such a gift required complete return in kind, her whole being. If one such gift, of spirit alone, had been dangerous, the entirety would consume him. He turned and slid down against the end of the bed, sitting at its foot, on the floor.

Gods and ancestors, help me, hold me up, watch over me, watch over my captain. Tears streaked his cheeks and ran along his chin. Weeping, he sat and meditated, mixing Janeway in with his silent prayers as both protected and protector.

WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN a long time later, Chakotay found his way to the door again and slipped out, weak and limp, but strength gradually returning. His uniform was soaked with sweat and blood and the collar with tears. He locked his own door behind him and threw everything into the cleaning cycle. A basin of cold water to dunk his head in, and he washed something away besides the salt and stickiness. Invisible filth dissolved away, or had burned off. He'd been stripped to the bone, but now he felt clean again, his purpose straight and clear before him. Like an arrow aimed at the heart of the enemy, waiting only to fly. But he had no fury in this battle, only purpose. Pure power. He hadn't felt like this in years.

Chakotay dressed quickly in a spare uniform and retrieved his com badge, checking the chronometer as he did so. He wasn't sure when Tuvok had called, but it had been at least an hour since he had gone into Janeway's quarters. More queer looks would come his way when he got to the bridge, but he knew what he had to do now. Where was that PADD? It held a brief explanation of the situation and the problem of the implant, and he had meant to put it under Torres' nose and slip out of Engineering until their meeting in Dalby's quarters had scotched that idea. Chakotay picked it up from the floor and scanned it again, wondering what Tuvok's reaction would be. "Don't say a damn thing aloud about this," was the first line, and he grinned at the thought of a Vulcan brow raised over the phrase. Perhaps he should reword that--

"Commander Chakotay to the bridge," buzzed his com badge. "Ensign Seska is hailing us."

He took off for the turbolift at a dead run, not even bothering to acknowledge.

Kattell smiled at him a little too broadly when she peered over Janeway and said, "This is getting familiar."

"Are you all right, Captain?" he asked.

Janeway nodded slowly and closed her eyes for a moment. Her hair was still tangled over her shoulders, but Kattell had given her something to wear, at least. Something close-fitting and black, which only emphasized her pallor. To look at her again nearly overwhelmed him.

"That was very slick, Chakotay," the Cardassian said, remembering to snarl. "You certainly had me fooled. You can convince a girl of anything, once you put your--mind--to it, can't you?"

For one horrible moment he was sure she knew what he had done to persuade her of his devotion. This deception, these layers upon layers of falsehood that concealed the withered, shrunken reality--he longed to destroy them all at a blow. His new determination fought to reveal everything. But he had to cling to the wrappings of lies a little while longer to have any hope of ever telling the truth again.

"I doubt that," he said. He stood before the command chair where Janeway might have in his place, his arms behind him. "I assume this is another ransom demand."

"More of a check-in, Commander. You see what I have, just as a reminder; you tell me what you've got, and we think about how to make everyone happy." Kattell twiddled a long lock of Janeway's hair around her phaser and smiled at her.

"What's your point, Ensign?"

"I haven't decided yet. I don't know if I ever want to give her back. Maybe I'll let you have some of her..."

Bluff, of course. She was hamming it up for Tuvok. This was supposed to keep everyone distracted from the possibility of a takeover, make the phantom artifact seem even more important. If negotiation was impossible, the most desperately slender straws would look attractive. This part of the act rang too true for his taste, but Kattell knew he would never cooperate if Janeway or any others were harmed. She still had only ten men out of the dozen she had started with, could not take the ship by force, and needed his help to succeed. Although she was reasonably sure of Chakotay's intentions, she had hedged her bets effectively. If he was loyal to her, she had no problems. If he was not, she had his captain, and could at least take her revenge.

"You will keep her alive, Seska. Otherwise, I won't have any reason at all to keep you alive." Good line, a little hokey, but well delivered. Janeway was silent, but he saw her nose twitch as if she were suppressing a smile. Nervous, however. Her eyes blinked frequently in an irregular pattern. That was at odds with her perfectly controlled body language--

One quick blink. Pause. One quick, one slow. Short pause. One slow, one quick. "Damn," he breathed to himself. She had been doing this through the whole transmission. A very old trick. Possibly too old for an Obsidian Order operative trained to counter the latest Federation technology. He allowed himself a tiny smile of acknowledgment. Janeway nodded almost imperceptibly. And she twitted me for using tactical chestnuts, he thought, concealing another smile.

"Sounds like a standoff for the moment," said Kattell. "But don't unpack all that merchandise I ordered." She reached to the console and flicked the switch. Janeway's eyes were steady on his when her face vanished.

"I'll be in the ready room," said Chakotay after everyone on the bridge had taken a deep breath. Tuvok seemed about to speak, but compressed his lips.

Janeway's room. Her chair, with the imprint of her body, her souvenirs on the bookshelf, her plants and flowers. Chakotay could almost taste her. He silently asked permission before sitting and activating the desk monitor. He replayed the transmission with manual controls, speeding and slowing it as needed. The pale, resolute face; the avid, viciously humorous one.

He picked up a PADD and poised his hand over it. She had started right after he had asked her how she was. Short. Long. Long. Short. A breath. Short. Long. Short. Short.

Chakotay typed slowly. P. L. A. N. S. Long pause. Every Starfleet cadet for the last thirty years had suffered through Professor Chiangkush and his Basic Communication seminars. Semaphore, flashing mirrors, tree blazes, naval flags, and International Morse. At least he himself had gotten extra credit for demonstrating a few traditional methods even the instructor didn't know.

T. O. Long pause. Kattell had discussed everything about the plans in her quarters, in front of Janeway. She had constantly searched for reaction, both on the captain's face and on his. Perhaps that was why she had let Janeway look at the viewscreen so long.

K. I. L. L. Long pause. 'Plans to kill--' Oh, gods...Chakotay felt an icy wind under his breastbone. His fingers trembled on the PADD. M. E. Pause. A. N. D. Pause. T. E. A. M. 'Plans to kill me and team...' Kattell had probably taunted her with it, perhaps held the phaser to her head, and although galvanized with horror, Janeway had retained the presence of mind to warn him... There was the source of his shock in the captain's quarters, the one that had burned away every doubt he had and set him implacably on his course. Kattell had no idea what she had done. A miscalculation, spurred by hatred on so many levels he wondered it had not caused a misstep before now. He should have realized how deep and irrational it was.

Tuvok. He had to make Tuvok understand now. Where was that damn PADD with the message--?

"Commander," said the intercom, right on cue.

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"I need to confer with you, sir."

"Of course, Lieutenant. I was just about to call you in."

The door swished open, and the security chief stepped just inside. His dark face was utterly blank of expression. The door closed again, and Chakotay began to rise from the desk.

"Kindly remain seated, Commander," said Tuvok, and aimed a phaser directly at his chest.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KATTELL WAS LISTENING. Chakotay knew she had heard every word. If she realized her plot was discovered, that she had no chance of taking Voyager, would her hatred simply flare into blind action? The target at hand was Janeway. In comparison to her, he was in no danger at all.

The Vulcan was an expert at codes. He had read Janeway's message as she gave it, and had thought it intended for him--why should he not?--and had interpreted it as a warning against the man who was insisting on a dubious away mission. Perfectly logical. And perfectly suited to his inclination, if truth be known. A man who had stepped between the Vulcan and his captain. A Vulcan's loyalty was no small thing. Chakotay had believed he had it once, and had been astounded at his luck. Learning that the loyalty had always belonged to another had been a blow, but had seemed somehow...logical. At least he couldn't fault Tuvok's choice of devotion.

Chakotay brought his right hand up, slowly, and laid his forefinger on his lips in the universal gesture for silence. Tuvok lifted one brow and stepped closer, the phaser steady. Chakotay moved the finger to his forehead, drew a loop between the brows, then swept it down to the left in a sloping line to the point of the shoulder. Finally he traced the rim of one ear and tapped it. His former Maquis comrade would remember the tribal signs for two things Chakotay's ancestors had never even imagined--Cardassian. Surveillance device.

"Mr. Tuvok, please sit down," he said with a facility that surprised him.

Tuvok raised his chin slightly, but he did not lower the phaser. "Thank you, Commander," he replied, laying one hand on the back of a chair, but remaining standing. His brows prompted Chakotay to continue.

"I would like your assessment of Ensign Seska's probable actions," he said lamely, while he tried to explain with his hands. He tapped the right side of his throat four times in a line front to back. Four pips. Captain. A back and forth motion of one forefinger over the other. Danger. The sign for silence again, and the circle and tap of the ear. Four pips. A two-handed gesture, inclusive of himself. The palms out, empty of weapon. Tuvok still did not lower the phaser.

Chakotay let his frustration show. Damn. He could never explain this way, and writing it down again would take too long, and be just as unconvincing to a suspicious Vulcan.

Tuvok moved his own hand to his temple after a moment. "I do not believe Ensign Seska is looking for a ransom at this point. Revenge, or some other plan seems more likely," he said. At least he was playing along with the charade. Tuvok would need confirmation of a very sure kind before he let Chakotay out of his line of fire, however. "Beyond that basic observation, I have little to add." The hand at his temple spread out in a stylized gesture, touched the forehead and cheekbone, then moved to indicate Chakotay. What did he mean?

"The mission to the base is even more important now, it seems," he replied. "We have to do everything possible to keep the captain safe." A mindmeld? The Vulcan form of telepathy by contact?

"I concur with you, sir. I will continue to prepare the away team." That would certainly confirm his loyalty and tell the whole story as well--but how much else?

"Very well, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

"Sir," said Tuvok, stepped to the door, opened it, closed it again, and waited. Could Chakotay keep anything away from him in the process of a meld? The phaser had never wavered in its aim. Chakotay knew it was on stun, not killing power, but if he were stunned, the jig would be up anyway and Kattell alerted. If she hadn't been alerted already by the halting conversation. His mental privacy, which held secrets he knew Janeway would not want known, even, or especially, to Tuvok, or her safety? No contest there. He nodded, and stood at the motion of the phaser's snub. Tuvok pointed at the couch by the viewport, walked there himself, and put the phaser in his holster after deliberation. He bowed his head and put his fingertips together, then looked up at Chakotay, spreading his hands out in an inquiring gesture, a formal act of asking permission without the weapon in hand. A Vulcan, Chakotay thought, must not want to sully his traditional practices any more than I would mine... He nodded again with his hands relaxed at his sides, walked slowly to the couch, and sat. At Tuvok's gesture, he lay back and swung his feet up from the floor.

The Vulcan knelt at his head, reaching over the end, the long dark fingers settling over Chakotay's face; temples, cheekbone and jaw. He leaned forward, pressing into the couch for support, far enough that his face was visible. The heavy inclined brows drew together; the eyes closed.

Silently, the lips formed words.

"My mind...to your mind..."

...A RUSH LIKE WATER, sudden as a river down a hillside, gathering in pools, filling the channels, quick, cool. A light turning on in a room that had always been dim. A landscape he had thought familiar made unrecognizable with new illumination, a new angle of view.

Someone with him in a place that had always been private.

Chakotay sucked in a panicked breath, his head tensing and rearing back into the cushion. The new presence faded, then returned. It said nothing, but waited patiently. Slowly he let himself expand to accommodate it, as simultaneously it thinned out and spread over a wider and wider area. It melted and soaked into him, filling the interstices until he was whole and seamless. A single mind, a single thought.

They moved slowly, sifting memories.

THEY SAT IN A SMALL SHIP, damaged with its passage through tumbling fire and unimagined space. A woman's face on the viewscreen. Chestnut hair, bright, upswept. She turned to them, addressed them by name with her hands on her hips. They had never seen her before. How did she know their name? They knew her very well. Both of them were there, one at the controls, one at the engineering station that the missing Torres should have manned. The shock at the sight of the woman's face--

Recognition. Awe.

She lay on the ground, a grey figure on top of her, both fading, the whole scene dissolving into glittering energy. The last time one of them had seen her. She was gone, and in danger, and perhaps for the sake of one hostage. How did he deserve such concern? Neither of them thought he did. And she was in the hand of the viper. A mishap of random chance. Why then did they blame themself?

ANOTHER WOMAN. Younger, harder, with a Bajoran face. She moved up to them with a lascivious grin, ran her hand over the phaser in their holster. "I could clean that for you," she said. "You'll need everything in good killing order." They sneered at her and tried to shake off her hand, but she followed them, undiscouraged. And the phaser did need cleaning, if it was to do its work, so they let her do it, but made sure not to thank her.

The Bajoran was weeping, and the tears tore them with guilt and chagrin. She knew that, and that was why she was weeping. Her eyes were still clear, bright and hungry. They tried to apologize, and fumbled on the words. She moved up to them, and ran her fingers through their cropped hair, and within ten minutes, she was stripped and on her back. They were panting and rolling together, and the release was welcome. Self-indulgence. Idiocy. A warm woman, and she claimed to love them.

They followed her thread.

She told them they were unworthy of her love, and tore them open with the words. Dust on the soul, settling in every corner of their thoughts. When would they ever see her again, and settle this wound with its maker?

Watching from the trees, grey and ghostly, forced into sight. They wanted to conceal her again, but they had no right to do so. They had tried so hard to drag her out of hiding, and they had to face her again. The silhouette of slender limbs. She kissed them and they recoiled, but regretted having done so. She smoothed the collar of a dark shirt she had given them, and they stood still to allow her touch. And within ten minutes, she was stripped and on her back, panting and rolling with them...

The joined beings pulled abruptly apart, and both gasped in pain.

MUTINEER. TRAITOR. INTERLOPER. YOU STAND CONVICTED--

No. No. Read my emotions. Try to understand a language you do not speak...

TWO CONTRADICTORY STATES. IMPOSSIBLE. INCOMPREHENSIBLE.

Try to understand. Janeway. For her sake. My emotions...

ONE MIND in two bodies again.

Blue eyes, meeting theirs across the compartment. They felt their stomach heaving and wrenching, both at the memory and at the revelation of the memory. The woman bent under them, rocking, crying out. They were sweating, desperate, weak with fear, and the blue eyes were steady, reaching for courage, holding out hope until they realized what they must do. An assault turned into a connection. Detached in amazement, watching themself with comprehension and condemnation, a new perspective layered on the original. They closed their eyes, and felt their captain with them, almost in body. Strange, fascinating, vile. Necessary, logical, abhorrent. The gift, the gift was made-- An odd, unformed anger, an unpracticed rage, a feeling of bereavement, resentment at an interloper in the special relationship. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT, they accused themself, and replied, We know. And how did they know? Movement at the speed of thought, undeflectable.

Down, down. They broke the surface of a warm green lake. Violet leaves in sunlight. A gentle kiss, that released aching desire. And more, far more, the joining of souls, the truth like a blazing sun. Both of them gasped, pulled her closer, reveled in the opening of her lips, her arms around them. Both of them, equally.

THE SECRET OPENED, its nature unexpected. They would never harm her or let harm come to her. They would die for her. Both of them, and both recoiled in shock from a part of themself.

A Vulcan? His loyalty no small thing.

And this interloper, this feral, unpredictable, unknown quantity, was a hideous danger, but not the danger previously feared. Images whipping past, of the big man with cropped hair, dispassionately observed and analyzed. An outlaw, an uncomfortable officer, a potential risk who must be watched. Their logical side analyzed the tactical situation and the advantages that could be gained through a direct attack on a Human's vulnerable emotions. The Cardassian had had nearly the same idea, had analyzed the advantages in the same way, and they compared their own assumptions with hers, feeling a queer mix of reaction. Although they knew now that she and their logic had been wrong about the motives involved, this was worse; their fears were doubled, the prospect of mutiny fading away and something far more unsettling taking its place...

They embraced their captain and she bent under them, willing for a few moments. They were lost in her. Would they ever be able to extract themselves from her arms, disentangle their souls from her, from each other? The synchrony was too strong, between them and with her. They were drowning in her embrace, her grip too strong for them. Every inhibition, every tenet of training was burning away, and they knew this was the truth...

THEIR PHYSICAL BODIES were breathing in unison, deep and harsh, nearly mastered by the memory brought out so intensely, as if they were experiencing it in reality all over again. The logic fought for supremacy, and tried to pull them out of the deepening pool. In hindsight, they had been fatally wrong, whether the emotion was true or not. Emotion had no value, no meaning, should be disregarded in any important decision. This was no basis for the command of a starship, for loyalty to captain. Devotion to the individual, not to the principle? Dangerous, lacking in logic, subject to improper influences--

She cried out, and pushed them away. The pain roared through them, cold, an icy ache, and they quenched themself again, and watched her vanish. Another critical decision taken out of their hands. The landscape no longer seemed beautiful, but somehow the sun still shone on it. The emotions so mixed, so incomprehensible. Hurt, anger, humiliation; strange aching joy, a cleansing yearning--

A forcible wrench, one part mastering the other. Up to the surface again, struggling desperately for air.

Stay out. Stay out.

IT WAS NECESSARY THAT WE VISIT EVERY POINT ALONG THE PATH.

Satisfied? Damn you.

WE ARE SATISFIED. WE MUST APOLOGIZE NONETHELESS FOR THE INVASION. IT IS FOR HER SAKE. WE HAVE BOTH MADE SACRIFICES FOR HER SAKE.

The clarity of a summoned voice.

Her eyes held theirs with a smile, and they quailed at the force of her beauty. The logic of the connection eluded them, but it was a fact nonetheless.

"Lieutenant Tuvok, I'm pleased to meet you. I hope we'll get along very well. Call me Captain."

"I will." They were hers from that moment."It's good to have you back with us, Mr. Tuvok." She stepped up to both of them as they stood on her bridge, and greeted one of them as her own. The other felt the phrase as a blow, and stared at the Vulcan, not in disbelief, but with a shock of certainty mixed with the anger. How could they have ever thought otherwise? This woman was their natural leader. They were hers from that moment.

"We have forged this relationship for years, and I depend on it." Her eyes were filled with tears, but they could not hold her emotions in disdain. Not hers. We violated our principles and hers to obtain this object, this folder of space, which is useless. Lieutenant Torres, Lieutenant Carey, and Ensign Seska are also culprits, but we are the senior officer, and responsible. And none of these serve her as we do. We did what she could not do, a sacrifice for her sake. She is greatly affected. We will not allow that to happen again. Her...happiness is precious to us. Her effectiveness as a leader is bound with her emotions. We must serve her on that basis. We are content to serve.

Firm pressure ushering the memory away.

ARE WE SATISFIED? One emotion calling out to another it recognized. An aching desire, a wish to be united, to fly to join the sun. And slowly emerging from hiding, an unformed longing, buried and drowned, deeper than ever thought possible, nevertheless cataloged and filed away. A kernel of a shining essence, once touched, carefully sealed. Both saw the hopelessness, and one wondered at how it had been concealed, and the other at how it had been revealed.

No action, no expression, no acknowledgment. We will address you as Captain. We will return you to your rightful place. Our purpose, our minds united.

The memories sifting.

A careful dance with teasing hatred. The layers of deception wrapping over the truth again and again until it was invisible. Hidden from sight so long they had forgotten its face. How would they know if it had changed while concealed? How would they recognize it when they saw it again? Would anything be different, if they lived through this? A long flight alone, to haven, but abandoning the focus of their thoughts. Realization, acceptance, trust in themself, deep concern for the future. Vulcans do not worry. My captain...

DRAINING APART, a rising and separation of two dissimilar elements. Some of each had dissolved into the other, some of the essence of each extracted. A lighter rapport now between two separate beings, question and answer.

SHE WILL NOT KEEP HER WORD, AS YOU SUSPECTED ALL ALONG. HOW SHALL WE KEEP THE CAPTAIN SAFE?

The Cardassian will want her to know that her death is coming. The team will die first in front of her eyes, and only then will she face the phaser. They will be lined up against the wall; she will not take much time. We must send another team down after the first, to intercept her once she believes the plot is in place and has brought the captain out.

TIMING WILL BE OF THE ESSENCE. VERY RISKY.

The alternative?

WE MUST ENSURE THAT NO WEAPONS ARE FIRED. LIEUTENANT TORRES AND I WILL PREPARE AN ANTI-PHASER FIELD GENERATOR--A HIGH-ENERGY DAMPING DEVICE. I AND THE OTHERS WILL ACT AS BAIT. YOUR TEAM MUST FOLLOW QUICKLY, NONETHELESS.

Everything is in your hands, then, Lieutenant. I can't be in earshot of any of the real preparations.

I UNDERSTAND. WE TRUST ONE ANOTHER ABSOLUTELY IN THIS RESPECT. I SHALL NOT FAIL YOU, COMMANDER. I SHALL SEND YOU PROGRESS REPORTS AS NECESSARY, WHILE YOU CONTINUE WITH THE CARDASSIAN'S PLAN TO KEEP HER PACIFIED.

Agreed. But make it quick; she can barely restrain herself from murder, even with so much to gain.

SLIPPING AWAY, a less-than-wholeness, half-empty. Chakotay was lying on his back, the Vulcan bent over him. Tuvok removed his fingers from Chakotay's temples and sat back. Chakotay opened his eyes slowly, refocusing outwards. He could face the dangers ahead with calm logic now, he thought. A difficult problem, but not insurmountable. He sat up and looked at Tuvok.

As he sat on his heels in an attitude of tense meditation, the Vulcan's elegant features were working with muscular spasms as if he were in pain. Chakotay had never seen him so affected, not when he had been wounded, not when he had seen things that left his Maquis comrades blind with tears. Once he might have gloated to see the thick shell pierced. Chakotay reached out, meaning to touch his shoulder, and Tuvok's eyes snapped open. He let out a long breath, rose, and gestured to the door.

TOM PARIS OBVIOUSLY had no idea why Chakotay was grinning broadly at Tuvok after all the strained exchanges of the past few hours. As he left the bridge to allow the security chief to call a meeting of the senior officers out of his hearing, Chakotay met the pilot's startled gaze and couldn't resist a quick wink. Once the turbolift doors shut, he nearly exploded with relief and suppressed laughter, leaning against the wall and holding a hand over his mouth to silence himself. He might have wept as well if he could have, for two longings that had merged for a moment into one, and neither ever to be fulfilled. He knew that now. He was damned if a Vulcan was going to handle his emotions better than he was...

Neelix bustled over to him as soon as he entered the dining room, expressing concern and asking anxiously about Janeway's welfare, and that sobered him a little. Kes relayed plates and cups to him at his table, her small hands fetching and whisking away, and he ate far too much for his stomach to handle at once, but he had realized just how hungry he was, and how physically weakened. His mind and body had left him no peace for days, and now he could restore them both. His strength was approaching a peak of some kind, his reservoirs fully charged. Kim was off duty and having a meal at the same time, so Chakotay waved him over.

"Harry, how are you doing? I've hardly had a chance to ask."

"Oh, just fine, Commander. Frankly, I don't recall much of it. Rutskoi had to tell me what happened."

"You're lucky." Chakotay took a deep drink from his glass. "Ah...I just heard Rutskoi's side of it."

"Hey, she took it pretty hard, " said Kim sententiously. "I'm OK."

Chakotay paused while he finished a pile of sliced fruits, one of them green and sticky, with edible seeds. "How do you feel about...Seska? How she treated you?" Here he was on dangerous ground, perhaps, but Kattell would be expecting him to do some probing.

Kim smiled thinly and said nothing.

"And...what about the way I acted?"

"Hey, I think I owe you my life, sir." Kim put out his hand, and Chakotay looked at it for a moment.

"Why?"

"Well, Seska wanted you to help her, I guess, and she knew you wouldn't unless she could threaten someone else and make you do it, so she didn't let the Kazon kill us. Isn't that right?"

"Maybe."

"If you'd told her you wouldn't have any part of it, she might have shot us first and maybe regretted it later."

Chakotay thought about the near-murder of Janeway and wondered. "You might be right."

"So I owe you my life, and Rutskoi does too. She'll come around." Kim offered his hand again, and Chakotay took it. "I have to admit, Commander..."

"Yeah?"

"I didn't like the idea of serving with a Maquis first officer. I'm Starfleet. But I kind of doubt Commander Cavit, rest in peace, would have been able to do the same thing. I'm glad you're with Voyager, sir."

"Thanks, Kim. I doubt Cavit would have been in that situation in the first place."

"Maybe not." They grinned at each other.

"Ensign Kim to the bridge," buzzed Kim's com badge.

"Oh, no. I just got off duty an hour ago." Kim made a face and put down his fork. "Well, it must be pretty important. Coming, sir?"

"Ah...in a few minutes." Chakotay knew that Tuvok would be informing all the senior staff, and as many others as needed to know. Once that had been done, he could return and get back to work. Freed of much of its load, his mind felt like a clear lens, focusing on the overriding goal. Janeway. "Janeway," he whispered through his fingers as Kim rose, and the young man looked quizzically at him.

"Excuse me?"

He suddenly didn't care if Kattell had heard that or not. "Janeway. We're working to free her. That's all that matters now."

"Well, maybe getting Seska behind bars."

"We'll do our best, Ensign."

"Sir," replied Kim, and left. Chakotay attended to his meal. Never knew where the next one was coming from sometimes.

"Torres to Chakotay."

"Chakotay here," he replied, stepping into the turbolift to return to the bridge.

"Damn you--" She swallowed her words, choking with tears that he knew were joyful ones. "We can get warp now. Five point five or six, I think. I'm going to keep tinkering, and Carey just had a good idea about the magnetic constrictors. Maybe we can get more for a short time, if we need to."

"Thanks, B'Elanna."

"Don't mention it. Oh, hell..." She signed off.

Chakotay smiled, and met the eyes of all the bridge crew as the doors opened. He'd always liked having his work cut out for him.

"GOOD LUCK," Chakotay said, anticipating the inevitable response.

"The exigencies of random chance cannot be enlisted in one's favor," replied Tuvok, checking his equipment. Torres directed a security guard to the transporter pad with a load of scanning devices. Window dressing for the charade of searching for alien super weapons.

"Whatever you say, Tuvok," Chakotay chuckled. Kim smiled, waiting with the phaser damping device, disguised as a tricorder. Torres and Carey were getting a lot of practice with miniaturization. Kazon weapons, judging from what they had seen of them, were similar to phasers or disrupters and should be blocked by the same frequencies.

A tiny interlude of levity in a situation so tense and delicate Chakotay had a vicious stomachache. The smile left his face almost immediately. Torres glanced at him with sympathy, and he managed a grimace in return.

"Don't worry, Commander. Everything's set up, nothing can go wrong. The captain will be back in time for dinner," she said. They watched as the rest of the party took their spots on the pads, and Chakotay gave the order to energize. Tuvok's face was the one he concentrated on, seeing him give a nod before the figures faded. Thirteen were going down in all, carefully picked to seem plausible to Kattell. Torres was staying behind, but would be one of the next group, the rescue team. She had insisted, and Chakotay was glad to have her fighting skills to aid them.

"Tuvok to Voyager," came the voice over the comlink. "Down and safe. We will proceed to the location of the hatch and enter the base once we have ascertained whether Ensign Seska's ship is present."

"Acknowledged. Be careful once you're in; communications between you will be tricky with all that shielding, and it will be impossible to transport you out."

"Yes, Commander. Tuvok out." Chakotay looked at Torres and nodded, signaling the next phase of the game.

"I'll be on the bridge," he said, stepped into the corridor and walked to a turbolift. Inside, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Kattell. The party is at the landing site. Give them a few minutes to open the hatch and get inside before you land. Your cloaking from Voyager's sensors is holding." Actually, it was not--Paris, warned, had spotted her shadowing them an hour ago, but had typed his observations to Chakotay's and Tuvok's monitors rather than mentioning it aloud. Tuvok had briefed the bridge crew carefully.

Chakotay's stomachache felt like a heavy grenade in his belly, the pin easing out with every passing moment. Ten minutes, perhaps fifteen. His freedom would be restored, or his life shattered. He stepped out of the turbolift to the bridge, exchanged pleasantries, went to the ready room. Torres arrived in a minute with the security detail, another of Tuvok's hand-picked groups. There was none of the usual chatter or joking among the ten men and women. Well-trained, disciplined. None of them Maquis. Rutskoi let her eyes remain on him a moment. They filed in silently, assumed the standard away-team spread around him. Paris glanced through the open door with an unaccustomed look of nervousness, then checked his console. When Kattell had landed--Paris turned and gave a thumbs up. A transporter technician waited with a portable console. Chakotay counted down, his eyes half closed. Open the back of the ship, deploy the boarding ramp, get the Kazon down it, prod Janeway, blindfolded, across the clearing...

Success depended on the timing, as Tuvok had said. Too soon, and Kattell would see them before her group had intercepted the first away team, before Kim could activate the anti-phaser field. She might just shoot Janeway immediately. Too late--

Into the hatch, left open by Tuvok. Down the corridor, find the away team, only slightly spread out as if searching. Kim would see Kattell, and he would swiftly press a button on the tricorder--would the sight of him give her pause? Not much. Bloodthirsty bitch. Chakotay tugged on the sleeves of his uniform, glanced around at the alert eyes of the security guards, turned to the transporter technician, and slashed a forefinger downwards.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

NOT ONLY BLINDFOLDED, but gagged as well. She had on a black coverall and no shoes, something like a uniform, but unrelieved by any color. Janeway tripped on the ramp, and Kattell grabbed her by the hair.

"No stalling, bitch. You're going to die, and your pet Vulcan too, and all your favorite people. Not in that order, of course. I like to save the sweetest for last." She took Janeway by the elbow and propelled her along over soft grassy ground. The Kazon were conversing in low, chuckling tones. Apparently they liked the idea of a little cold-blooded slaughter. Not so much resemblance to Klingons after all, Janeway thought.

"Shut up, you amateurs," Kattell said. "Here we are. You two-- take point. No shooting until I say so. The rest of you--behind me, and stay there." She clamped a cruel grip on Janeway's wrist, twisted it up behind her, and forced her down a steep companionway. The echoes sounded like metallic walls, long corridors. The group moved slowly through a larger room, then into a corridor again. This place smelled musty, very old.

Janeway heard voices up ahead. Kattell halted and called the pointmen back, then moved up to listen for a moment. "Sounds fine," she said low. "Right number of people, right tone of voices. I knew I could count on him. I've never known Chakotay not to keep his promises." She laughed quietly.

That's right, thought Janeway. He made a promise to me. They moved down the corridor again. Closer, louder. Was that Tuvok--? Janeway caught a few phrases.

"Lieutenant--this is a very unusual technology. The shielding's so good, I don't think we could even use communicators more than a few rooms away. It damps everything, even the tricorder scans. There's no way to tell how big the place is, or get an idea of the whole layout."

"In that case, we will do a room to room search for the artifact Commander Chakotay spoke of," replied Tuvok. He couldn't have fallen for that story, of course, Janeway thought. Chakotay had told him the truth, somehow. Kattell had kept the pickup for the eavesdropping device with her constantly, and had kept Janeway nearby to guard her from her own crew. A few awkward moments in the conversation, some interesting assertions on various points of law and ethics from Chakotay, obviously meant for Kattell's hearing, a harrowing exchange with a group of Maquis and then with Torres, a great many terse orders and long intervals of silence. Janeway had never listened to him so intensely. She had to trust that he had found a solution.

"Draw weapons, boys," the Cardassian said. The Kazon snorted at each other in anticipation. Kattell ripped off Janeway's gag and blindfold, stepped around the corner, her left arm around Janeway's waist, her right hand resting on her shoulder, the phaser against her throat. The Kazon divided and flowed to each side of her, flooding into the room.

"Hello, Harry," said Kattell.

"I don't think I like you anymore," replied Ensign Kim, removing his hand from his tricorder.

"Gosh, that makes this a whole lot easier," sneered Kattell. He answered her with a look Janeway had never seen before, that made his handsome young face much older and harder. He glanced at Janeway as the Kazon pushed him against the wall with the rest of the party. Apprehension, but not much surprise. Her heart lifted slightly. Tuvok stood quietly, his hands raised while the Kazon stripped away his phaser and scanner. Kattell moved up to him, loosened her hold on Janeway, and slapped him viciously across the face.

"I thought you had some sense once, Vulcan," she said. "When you went to trade for the space folder yourself. But you wouldn't leave my plans alone when I tried my best to gain allies for us. You've lost all your logic to her, and now you're going to lose your life." She embraced Janeway again, moved back. "Line them up," she ordered the Kazon. "Him first--" she jerked her chin at Kim-- "and him last." She bared her teeth at Tuvok. "I won't make you watch anyone else die, Harry."

"Gee, thanks," he replied.

Thirteen Voyager officers, ten Kazon, one with his arm in a sling. "Pick your targets, gentlemen," Kattell said. "Leave the Vulcan for me." The weapons rose. Several officers closed their eyes, but there was no outcry. Janeway stiffened, took a deep breath. There had to be something--some plan-- Tuvok was impassive, his lip bleeding from Kattell's blow, a splash of vivid green on his brown skin. Kattell pulled her closer, peered in her face, breathing harsh and rapid through open lips. "Fire," she said.

THE LITTLE SHIP stood in the clearing; the hatch stood open. No life signs anywhere--so everyone was in the base. So far, so good. Chakotay spoke briefly to Paris on Voyager, then led the detail to the hatch, Torres right behind him.

"You'll have to use your phasers as bludgeons initially," he said, knowing that Kattell could not hear him now because of the base's shielding. "The anti-phaser damping will last about twenty minutes before the power cell burns out. Kim has probably activated it by now. I hope it'll be quick, but there's the potential for a long fight, with both sides unable to use energy weapons. Let's go." Rutskoi took up the lead, with another guard beside her. Tuvok's team had planned to stop and wait in the second set of rooms down the corridor, so the detail proceeded swiftly until they heard voices. Strangely, their own ears were better alarms than their scanners in this area.

Chakotay heard a blow, no cry of pain. Kattell's voice, mellow, as she could sometimes render it, then harsher, giving orders. He swept the detail forward with a gesture. A scream of rage, an explosion of shouts. Chakotay rounded the corner just in time to see Janeway wrench out of Kattell's grasp and land a vigorous punch to the Cardassian's midsection. Tuvok dropped one Kazon with a neck pinch and grappled with another. The security guards paired up on the huge men, striking. Chakotay and Torres instinctively went for Kattell.

She and Janeway were struggling, faces contorted. Kattell caught a handful of Janeway's loose hair and yanked her off balance, then flashed a hand into her jacket. What did she have--? Chakotay tried to grab her arm, but she twisted away and brought out a naked stiletto, its blade stained at the tip.

Poison-- a viper's tooth--

The only thing that saved Janeway was the fact that Kattell hesitated fractionally, jerking towards Chakotay with the point as he dodged. Torres struck her on the arm, seized the hand with the knife, and knocked the weapon to the floor. Chakotay kicked it away.

"Damn you! Damn you!" Kattell shrieked at him. Her voice tore out of her like flesh rending, like bones breaking. Janeway got an arm around her throat and choked her off. The Kazon, cornered, were fighting like lions. One of them tossed off two big guards and began to strangle a third. The first team, mostly science and administrative personnel, stayed out of the way as much as possible, causing distractions for the Kazon as they could. Tuvok pinched the Kazon strangling the guard. His first victim was already struggling up from the floor. Cries of pain and roars of battle resounded off the walls.

Kattell broke Janeway's hold and darted between Chakotay and Torres, slipping through their grasp. She vanished down another corridor that led deeper into the base. Torres started after her, but Chakotay jerked his thumb at the main fight. Scooping up a dropped phaser, he threw it to Janeway, who caught it out of the air and smiled at him. They went after the fugitive together.

Just a flash of hair visible around the corner at the end of a long, straight corridor. Left turn. The light was a dim glow from ceiling panels. Janeway ran behind him, nearly as fast as he. When they rounded the corner, Kattell tried to fire from a doorway, but the weapon was still damped. She ducked into the room. Chakotay slammed into the wall beside the door to stop himself, peered around carefully. Dark. Another door sliding shut, a bright thread of light just showing. He ran for it, drawing his phaser. Soon they would be out of the damper's sphere of influence. Janeway followed.

Another corridor, running left and right. Dusty--prints to the left. Again they pelted after her. A few more turns--a T intersection. He halted, looking for signs. A small object on the floor to the right... Gods--

Chakotay thrust himself backwards as Janeway collided with him, twisted around to catch her, half carried her to the nearest doorway and threw himself inside with her. The fragmentation grenade leaped to waist height and sent a vortex of shrapnel whizzing in every direction, razor shards embedding themselves in the metallic walls. No gas, at least. They rolled up again and looked down the intersection. A shadow whipping away to the right--she had paused to see the effect of her little surprise. Off and running again.

"I hope you're remembering all these turns," Janeway shouted as he drew ahead of her.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. Damn--there she was. Kattell skidded through another doorway, and he followed. Through this room and out into a long, curving, featureless corridor. Did she know where she was going? Probably. Another grenade--and his momentum was too great to halt and reverse in time.

"Cover!" he shouted to Janeway, who was falling behind. He ran ahead as hard as he could sprint, passed the little black disk, and hit the floor when he heard it pop up. Most of the shrapnel went over his head, but he suffered some cuts to his back and shoulders. Janeway--he rolled over and looked back down the corridor. She was just reemerging from the last door, unhurt. Chakotay sprang up and continued.

This corridor seemed to be an express route deep into the base. It turned and descended in a gentle curve with a large radius, so that he could see some distance ahead--about thirty meters. He ran on for several minutes, never glimpsing Kattell. There were occasional doors, but none of them looked disturbed. Where was she leading him? Janeway could not keep up with his pace, but he could not wait for her. Downwards, the footprints in the dust urging him on. He passed a huge double door, then whipped back. There were faint scrape marks in the dust. Big black symbols above it, and what he could have sworn was a warning sign. He put his hand to the panel by the door, then flattened against the adjacent wall as the mechanism engaged. The beam of Kattell's weapon scorched out through the opening, leaving a hot spot on the opposite wall. Set to kill. Chakotay dove under the beam and through the door as it closed again, then rolled to the side and took a snap shot.

The bolt missed and vanished into the distance of an enormous chamber. Kattell darted around the towering construction in the middle. Some kind of reactor. This must be the power source for the base, or for part of it. Chakotay scrambled, keeping low. Kattell was climbing up the opposite side on a service ladder, aiming for a suspended catwalk that circled the core. Already ten or twelve meters up. If he stunned her at that height, she might be killed in the fall. He aimed, then hesitated. Kattell stopped on the ladder and drew a bead on him; Chakotay dodged behind a console. When she reached the catwalk, forty meters up, she would be able to fire on any point in the room, and he would have no protection. He ran to the core and started up another ladder, four rungs at each leap. Taller and faster than she, he made up the start she had and arrived on the catwalk at almost the same time. Both of them dodged to the shelter of the huge cylindrical core. Crouching on the opposite side from Kattell, Chakotay pressed against the warm metal and listened. She called out to him.

"Chakotay--" She was gasping from exertion, as was he. "You betrayed me. I actually relied on you, and you betrayed me. You Human bastard." Angrier at herself than at him.

"At least now you remember I'm Human, Kattell."

"Don't call me that. You've got no right." He thought she might be crying, although her voice was hard. "That woman's dead. And the bitch is dead. I'll kill her if it's the only thing I accomplish for the rest of my life. She's trapped me in this body. I'll never see my home or my own face again. It didn't matter so much when I thought I had you with me."

"Will you kill me too?" he asked. "Because you'll have to, to get to Janeway."

"Chakotay--Oh, Gods, Chakotay, how could you make love to me like that if you didn't want me?" She was definitely crying. He stood hugging the reactor between two consoles, alert to any sign she was moving around towards him, but he could feel her silent sobs communicated through the gridded metal of the catwalk, an irregular vibration above the low steady hum of the machinery.

"I'm sorry," he said, wondering why he felt that necessary. Silence in response, the sobs continuing. He took a careful step to the right, then another. If he could come up on her left before she noticed, perhaps he could get in a quick shot.

"Stop," Kattell shouted, her voice high and harsh with tears. "Don't think I won't kill you."

"The possibility never left my mind." Pity? Remorse? What was he thinking?

"I don't want to kill you, Chakotay, so don't move." What? She had dropped two grenades in his path, was using a full-power weapon--what was she saying? Actions spoke louder to him just now. "I want you to tell me--I want you to tell me why."

"Why?"

"Why you knuckled under to her. Why you offered yourself to her and handed over everything to her. Don't you have any balls? What happened to the man who tossed his career for his people? What happened to the Maquis captain? You were the king of that ship, even if it did have a rebuilt engine and never enough photon torpedoes. Why did you just give up? Do you like having a foot on your neck? And she slapped you down; what a disappointment that must have been. You were counting on being her pet boy, weren't you, handsome? She's already got one, and I hear Vulcans have a lot of stamina--"

He snorted softly in derision.

"What a shock it must have been to discover you had brought him back for her yourself. A Federation agent under your nose, one of your most trusted people--"

"Who's talking about agents, Cardassian?"

"Don't you get it? I wasn't working against you any more. I read your dossier, and I volunteered for the assignment, and I knew I'd have everything I needed in two months. I did have it. Why do you think I stayed and stalled so long? I fed the Order little bits of information, nothing that could hurt us--"

"Us? My Maquis cell, that was working to hurt Cardassia every way we could?"

"You weren't exactly in danger of conquering Cardassia Prime, you know. I could let you succeed on your little raids, and even help you out, because my goals were a lot bigger than that. The Order is going to do great things, and they need people who take the initiative. Going on a dangerous mission like mine, undergoing this awful transformation, living like an animal for months or years--that was going to get me a lot of credit. But I needed something really big, some real asset to bring back--"

"What? Me? Are you talking about me?" Chakotay was flabbergasted. Was she spinning some kind of story? Gods knew she was good at that--

"You, Commander Chakotay. A high-ranking Starfleet officer, and a Maquis captain. The help you could give the Order would be pivotal. You were already a defector, and I thought I could show you the advantages--"

"You wanted to recruit me to the Obsidian Order?"

"They would use your talents as they deserve to be used. None of those shackling Starfleet regulations. None of the hardships and shortages of the Maquis. You'd have resources, and a free rein. You'd even be able to influence the policy towards your homeworld, get the garrisons restrained or removed. Wasn't that your goal, anyway?" There was no trace of tears in her voice now; it was even, matter-of-fact. Plausible? He felt dizzy.

The Obsidian Order. Would he ever have stooped that low to protect his planet? Become the very thing he despised most to save innocents? Was he only a tool in his own hands? Chakotay leaned against the warm bronze metal of the reactor core. And what had he done when he had put this uniform on again? If Kattell's offer sounded abhorrent, what about Janeway's? He had said he didn't owe the Federation any loyalty. If Starfleet was going to uphold a treaty that destroyed the hopes of thousands, he couldn't be a part of them any more. Why did I lose sight of that?

In light of the circumstances...I accused Tuvok of having a blind spot. I accused Rutskoi of indulging in personal loyalties that had no place in maintaining discipline. What about myself? I saw a Starfleet captain, I saw a woman; I held myself out to her with my own two hands. Myself, my ship, and all my people. Because she could set aside the petty differences between us and work towards a larger goal. Not a selfish one; not advancement in the ranks of assassins and poisoners, but the service of her ship and crew, which included me and mine without reservation. And the good of the helpless, and the defiance of the brutal. She's what Starfleet was meant to be. The reason I joined in the first place. Her dreams interlock with mine.

His vision seemed sharper now, his mind more acute than it had been in days. "Kattell. You'll never understand, but I'll try to explain. I won't betray everything that makes me a Human being for any goal. I would lose it in the end if I did that. I have to accept restraints on my actions or I will become a monster. Can a monster have dreams?"

"Yes, she can." She was crying again. Manipulative bitch--but his heart contracted. Lost, enveloped in her own devices, so deep in deception she could not recognize her own face in the glass. "I'll forget this. Come with me."

"Janeway may never get home," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "She may have destroyed all hope of that with her own hand. But she is at peace with herself, and she knows who she is, and she has lighted her way with her principles. Your path might seem easier, and justifiable, but it goes straight down into darkness. I'll never go with you."

Kattell was silent for a moment. "Last chance, Chakotay," she finally said. "If you want to live, you'll follow me out of here. So you don't trust me; fine. I don't trust you, either. But I love you."

"I don't know what you call love. You wanted to make me a Cardassian official to aid your own career, you say. I'll say again: You don't know me well enough to love me. Janeway knows me, and I know her."

"But she doesn't love you."

Chakotay paused for a moment. "She won't compromise her duty. I was wrong to ever try for that, and I hadn't meant to. She's my captain, and I serve with her, and that's enough. It has to be."

"Come with me."

"Haven't you heard anything I've said? I'd rather die than live my life as you'd have me do."

"Die then," Kattell said, and stepped around the core, fast as a striking cobra, and shot him.

CHAPTER TWENTY

HE HAD LEFT HER BEHIND ten minutes ago. Janeway had had to pick her way through the metal shards on the floor, and his legs were longer than hers. His prints were on the floor, but she could no longer hear his footfalls. This corridor seemed to go on forever. Janeway did not like the perception that she was going deeper underground with every step. This place was huge, and empty, and echoed with ghosts. Her own panting breaths and the thump of her bare feet were all she could hear. Except for a faint vibration, a hum of power, that had grown stronger with every step. What was that? A phaser burn on the wall, opposite that big door. Fresh. No smell of burnt flesh. Janeway halted and listened carefully. A faint clanging, irregular, like boots on metal. She opened the door with a touch on the panel and slipped inside.

It was the size of a starship dry-dock, a huge echoing chamber dominated by the towering graduated cylinder of a reactor. Some automated system, that had kept this base powered on its own, perhaps for centuries. How much longer did it have to live? She scanned the room for the source of the distant sounds she heard. Echoes and reechoes. Up high-- She saw movement near the top of the core, on a catwalk that must house the main controls. The ladders up the sides of the core were the obvious access, but anyone on top could fire straight down on climbers. Janeway moved around the perimeter of the room, staying under a projecting balcony that might give her some protection. There--under those open observation windows--that looked like a turbolift. If she could get to the top, she could at least see what was going on. The doors opened at a touch, and the lift shot to the highest level.

She had to run along a corridor that passed behind the wall of the chamber to reach an observation window. Yes, that was the main control area up there. Consoles ringed the core. She heard voices, one low and cutting, the other light and tense, both familiar. The echoes made them nearly unintelligible. Surely the ladders were not the only access to the top. Some kind of projecting bridge, perhaps? This control panel, below the window--yes. There were seams in the wall, and she could see other identical observation areas that seemed to have covered bays for machinery below them. Were the bridges broken? She tried the panel, and got a faint protesting whine. Something still active in there.

Oh--out on the catwalk. The Cardassian. She was working on the consoles, visible in profile moving from one to the other, mostly hidden behind struts and girders. Janeway could still hear two voices. Chakotay must be on the other side--where? Ah, there he was, holding himself against the central core. Kattell vanished again, moving around the opposite side of the core from Janeway. Chakotay was speaking, very clearly and quietly, so that the echoes died and his voice began to carry.

"Janeway may never get home," she heard. "She may have destroyed all hope of that with her own hand. But she is at peace with herself..." His own voice overtook him, reverberating around the chamber. Then he paused, and the echoes died again. "I'll never go with you."

Kattell's response was not intelligible. Chakotay's voice emerged again after a few moments of exchange, speaking slowly.

"She won't compromise her duty. I was wrong to ever try for that, and I hadn't meant to. She's my captain, and I serve with her, and that's enough. It has to be." He was sure, and serene, but the note in his voice caught at her. Janeway took a breath, cast her eyes up as a deep pain lanced through her. Should she call out to him to let him know she was there, or would that only distract him? Where was the Cardassian now?

A bright flash of reddish light, the exact hue of a phaser. Chakotay recoiled, staggered off the railing, and fell to the floor of the catwalk, writhing. Janeway snapped her weapon up and hit Kattell dead center. The slender grey figure jerked back, but did not fall. That damn armor she had--Janeway thumbed the phaser to the kill setting and sent another bolt whining past Kattell's head. Too slow-- the woman's movements were superbly coordinated. Kattell leaped up the side of the core, clinging to inset handholds, and fired at Janeway. The bolt sizzled through the window and knocked a hole in the wall behind her. Crouching, Janeway hit the panel and heard the bridge begin to deploy. She peered out again and saw that Kattell had reached the ceiling, ten meters above the catwalk, and was slapping a flat key card against a hatch. It slid open, and the captain glanced down at Chakotay. He was moving feebly, trying to drag himself around a console for cover. Apparently he had lost his phaser. Kattell took another shot at Janeway, then instantly fired at Chakotay. He rolled and lay still. Had he been hit, or was that only avoidance? Janeway fired again as Kattell pulled herself up into the hatch, but missed as she swung her legs up and vanished. The hatch clicked shut.

The bridge was almost fully extended, and Janeway opened the door, ran along it, and jumped the last two meter gap. She sent a bolt up at the ceiling hatch, but only left a mark. And then she turned to her first officer, whose chest, right side and arm were smoking with a terrible wound. He was still, and pale, and--

He had a standard tricorder, and she scanned him quickly, unable to tell much beyond the basic fact that he was alive. Whether he was dying-- Janeway dropped the tricorder and put her hand to his face. Chakotay opened his eyes and slowly focused on hers, then cast a glance around.

"She's gone, Chakotay. Through the hatch up there."

"What...what was she doing? Check the consoles...oh, hell, I should have realized..." His head fell back, and he gave a strangled howl of agony. Janeway looked at him a moment longer, then searched him for equipment. A small field medical kit in the pouch with the tricorder. She found the hypo of painkiller and administered it, then ran the tiny medilyzer over the wound. Better--but it would take the doctor to repair it. This would pull him back from the brink for a little while. What was that? A dull rattle on the metal floor, and a tiny object slipped through the grid and fell. Kattell's eavesdropping device, which had worked its way out from the wreck of his shoulder. Janeway left him with a squeeze of his good hand and leaped to the consoles.

She had to study them for a minute, and went back to fetch the tricorder. Chakotay caught the look on her face as she scanned the core, and closed his eyes momentarily. Janeway was not given to swearing, but she swore now.

"Shit. She's dumped all the coolant, and set the reaction rate to maximum. Four reactors like this one, at various points in the area. And the whole system is locked out. She knew what she was doing. If Torres were here--"

"How long?" Chakotay said with a rasp.

"No more than fifteen minutes before the entire complex goes."

"No time to get her then. We have to get our people out of here. The com badges won't work," he said, struggling up on his left elbow.

"That hatch might be a short cut to the surface."

"Yes, you must be right. We have to get it open."

Janeway emptied the entire charge in her phaser before the hole was large enough. Chakotay's weapon was gone over the railing of the catwalk. It took a minute for the metal to cool. Chakotay was sitting, panting in effort, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. He waved her up the core.

"Go up and around to the first hatch again, and you might get to them in time."

"Are you giving me orders, Commander?" Janeway smiled. She helped him up, and he leaned heavily on her for a moment. "You can make it."

"I'm certainly going to try," he said, and grinned at her while she leaped up the core and caught the handholds. When she was through the hatch, she lay flat and reached down to him as he came slowly up, hitching with his left hand and using the strength of his legs. His right arm was useless, bone showing through the seared flesh, but he made no sound as he grabbed her wrist and heaved himself through the hatch with her help.

This was some kind of service tunnel, a long low corridor with a door at one end. They ran towards it, found it open, and discovered sunlight shining through the ceiling of the little cubicle at the end. The hatch was tiny, and Chakotay could barely squeeze through, but they were out. He hit his com badge.

"Chakotay to Voyager. One to beam up." He ripped the badge off his chest and thrust it into her hand.

"Commander--"

"Don't argue with me, Captain. I'm right, and you know it."

She had to admit he was, as the sparkles carried her away.

CHAKOTAY RAN through the violet forest, clutching his right arm with his left hand in a vain attempt to keep it from moving too much, heading for the clearing where the hatch they had first entered would be. It should be about two hundred meters more to the east. He had an excellent sense of direction and distance, and had been aware at every moment how far he had come from his starting point. The sunlight burst abruptly upon him as he came out of the trees. There was Kattell's ship, the docking ramp still down. Was she in it? Could she fly it on her own? He had no weapon, and no time to investigate. He skirted the clearing to avoid the ship and dashed out to the hatch. Five minutes left, perhaps less. The pain of Chakotay's wound was creeping up on him, but he ignored it. He stumbled on the little hillocks of grass. There was no one at the hatch, no one in the corridor. The fight was still going on; he heard a Kazon roaring. He staggered the last few meters and entered the room. Four of the Kazon were down, and two of the security guards. One of the guards aimed a fist at him, then quickly drew it back.

"Commander? Where's Captain--"

"Safe," he said. "We've got to get out of here."

"Sir, you're hurt--"

"I noticed, thank you. Move it!" he bellowed. "Tuvok! Never mind the Kazon! This entire complex is going to melt down in less than no time. Out on the surface, everyone! Go! Go!"

The fight froze in mid-grapple, then the scramble began. Chakotay counted the Starfleet uniforms out the door, and saw that the two fallen guards were picked up and carried. The Kazon ran without tending to their wounded, but he paid them no heed. The phasers were probably working again by now, but he had no time to restart the fight. All right, twenty-three, and Torres. He turned to follow them, and sagged against the wall, his vision going grey. He would have fallen, but a strong arm caught him, and he knew Tuvok was there.

"Move it out, Lieutenant," he whispered, and the dark waters closed over his head.

JANEWAY LEAPED off the transporter pad with a nod to the surprised technician, and headed for the bridge. In the turbolift, she pressed the intercom button.

"This is the captain. All transporter rooms, prepare for emergency beam-out. And ready a tractor beam. Ensign Seska may be taking off very soon." The doors opened, and she strode to her seat, Paris whipping around and yielding it with a beautiful smile. "Main viewer on magnify," she ordered over her shoulder to Ops. "I want to see the area around the base."

"Aye, Captain." The view switched to the island of green in the vast dry desert.

"Sensors on maximum. Can you detect any ships?"

The lieutenant at Tactical worked frantically at the panels. "No, Captain," she replied. Paris was peering at his own console, but he shook his head.

"Transporter rooms--" Janeway said.

"We've got a lock on some--" was the reply.

"Bring them up as fast as you can. Many are missing com badges."

"Aye, Captain."

Paris's head jerked up. "There's something building down there. I'm getting it through the shielding."

"Transporter rooms--"

"We've got twenty now. And, uh, one Kazon--"

"Good God. Put him in the brig."

"This is enormous," said Paris. "That whole area is going to--"

The magnified view made it seem as if Voyager were only a few miles above the planet's surface. Serene, verdant, the sun sparkling off the lakes. And then a tremor, visible as a ripple spreading outwards from several points. The waves converged and met, and the ground tore open in great arcs. The lakes vanished. A light as if a sun had materialized within the core of the planet. The huge silent fireball rose and ballooned towards them, its surface crawling with incandescent serpents. It spread out and seemed to envelop them, the sheets of flame twisting into the stratosphere. Voyager hovered far above the actual explosion's influence, but Janeway seemed to feel the whisper of fire on her skin. The light glowed on the faces of the bridge crew. The flames fell and died; the enormous mushroom cloud of dust covered the viewscreen.

No one on the bridge spoke for a moment. Janeway took a deep steadying breath and looked at the remains of the gardens. A radioactive hole in the crust, the grave of beauty. And of all the potential knowledge hidden in the ancient corridors. What else? Who else?

"Transporter rooms," she said again. "Report."

"The last batch were just dematerializing when the explosion hit. We have them in the buffers, but the radiation--"

"Materialize them in sickbay," Janeway ordered. "Activate emergency medical hologram." She swung out of her chair and into the turbolift.

"HOW ARE THE PATTERNS holding up?"

"There's been a point zero one eight degradation in the last minute."

"Good God."

The two transporter technicians bent over the console again. Janeway tightened her clenched jaw as hard as she could, then consciously relaxed herself, mind and body.

"Boost the power to the buffer relays," she said. "Tsiang, you've got to hold those patterns together."

"Boosting power now. There--"

"I've got materialization initiated. Rate of degradation increasing."

A bright blue-white light appeared and shone on the faces of the technicians, the captain, and several security guards being treated in Sickbay, all watching tensely. It differentiated into four groups and spread vertically, and the familiar sparkles began to assume form around the light.

"Four--"

"Where's the last one? Have we lost a pattern?" Janeway's voice cracked.

"No. I'm reading five-- I was reading five. I'm not sure--" The sparkles began to waver and fade.

"Tsiang!"

"Reinitiating now." The sparkles strengthened again, but did not solidify. "It's the radiation, Captain. It's degraded the signal and is interfering with materialization."

"Run the signal through decontamination again. That should reduce the radiation levels enough to allow materialization."

"That'll take time, Captain. The degradation will reach point zero five in another minute at this rate. That's when the effects--"

"Do it, Tsiang."

"Yes, ma'am." The small round-faced woman bent to the console. The four groups of sparkles faded, and the hum went silent. Janeway paced. Kim. Rutskoi. Torres. Tuvok. Chakotay. Everyone else was safe, though some had been injured in the fight.

"Bridge to Janeway."

"Yes, Mr. Paris."

"Four Kazon warships, approaching at warp six. They'll be here in ten minutes. The radiation from the blast reduced our long-range sensor efficiency."

"Prepare to leave the system and go to warp, but hold tight until I give the order. We're still trying to retrieve the last few members of the away team, and I don't want anything to disrupt that."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Um--is Harry OK?" Janeway could hear the slight break in Paris's voice.

"He'll be fine, Tom. We only need a few more seconds..."

"Decontamination complete. Reinitiating materialization. Degradation at point zero four seven."

The four groups formed again. Who was missing? Or was the reading distorted by the radiation as well?

The outlines grew solid, and resolved, and opaque. Kim. Rutskoi. Torres. And the fourth; Tuvok, holding Chakotay in his arms in a posture of protection, hunched and defensive. All five had charred uniforms and ashy skin. Tuvok's face, when he raised it, was the color of burned wood.

"Captain," he said, and collapsed. Trainees caught him before he hit the floor, and swept up his burden.

"Janeway to bridge. Engage."

"Yes, ma'am," said Paris with gusto. "We're outta here."

Janeway followed the groups to the intensive care beds and found herself helping to lay Tuvok flat while a trainee fumbled with a hypospray. He opened his eyes after a moment.

"I believe," he said levelly, looking at the trainee, "that the anterior end is the one in which to load the vial." He looked up at Janeway as she leaned over him, resisting the urge to touch him. He wouldn't say anything to discourage her, but she knew he preferred her not to.

"I am gratified to see that you are well, Captain," he said.

"As am I to see you, Mr. Tuvok." The flash burns were dreadful, but he betrayed little pain, though his face was tense. The hiss of the hypo relieved him of even that evidence of discomfort. She smiled, then glanced up at the bed where the doctor and Kes worked. Chakotay.

"Go to him, Captain," said Tuvok, and closed his eyes.

She stood still for a moment, then approached with her steps slow and deliberate. His uniform lay on the floor, scorched and slashed. They had had no time to cover him, and he lay unconscious and naked, pale as sand. "One hundred ccs metacordrilline," said the doctor. Kes handed him a hypo and continued her work with a hand-held unit over Chakotay's chest. Janeway stood at the end of the bed. She could see red rib bones where the flesh had been burned away. Most of his right shoulder was gone, and the exterior muscles of his upper arm. Blackened skin in rags-- The doctor snapped off his whirring instrument and injected the drug, then checked the wall readouts. "Cardiac stimulator," he said, and held out a hand. Gerron thrust an instrument into it, tears running down his cheeks and dripping off his nose. The doctor punched the instrument vigorously against the left side of Chakotay's chest. His body shuddered, but remained limp. The doctor's expression gave Janeway pause, and she looked at the wall readouts herself.

Flatlined. She reached out and gripped Chakotay's feet.

"Twenty ccs neocordrazine."

That was a drug used only in extremis--

Kes quickly loaded another hypo and handed it to the doctor. He made the injection, applied the cardiac stimulator again, then tossed it to Gerron. "Neurocortical stimulator," he said, and slapped the proffered disk to his patient's blistered forehead. Janeway could not look at the wall readouts now, but concentrated on Chakotay's face, not nearly as badly burned as Tuvok's. The Vulcan had protected him from the first instant of the flash. A moment later, and all of them would have been consumed, beyond hope of revival.

Behind her, the other members of the away team shifted in their beds, growing aware of the situation.

"Lieutenant Torres, you can't get up--"

"I'm up, aren't I?" said Torres. She staggered to Janeway's side, looked at Chakotay, and then at the captain. Janeway barely registered her presence until she felt a strong hand on her arm, and turned to see the half-healed face, the expression part pain, part compassion, part stoic courage. Torres tried to smile, and Janeway tried to return the smile.

The doctor made a grunt of satisfaction, and Janeway snapped her gaze to the wall readout again. A heart rate, a brainwave pattern. Gerron burst into loud sobs. The doctor grimaced at him. "We need to get the commander into surgery now," he said to Kes.

"Yes, Doctor," she replied in her low voice, then turned to fetch instruments and turn on the sterile field.

"Captain," she said when she saw Janeway, "I'm very glad you're back."

"Will he..."

"Commander Chakotay's condition is grave, but not necessarily terminal. That is, if there are not too many unneeded personnel in Sickbay." The doctor brushed around her and threw her a warning look. Janeway retreated, but she did not leave all through the reconstruction operation, even when the doctor smoothed down the last piece of replicated epidermal tissue, lowered the sterile field and said to Kes, "We've done all we can."

The captain sat by her first officer's bedside, holding his limp left hand, until Kes persuaded her to get some sleep.

CONTINUED IN PART FOUR

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