The Cardassian Mask Chapter 4: Part Four: Pursuit and Capture, a startrek: voyager fanfic

THE CARDASSIAN MASK

The Cardassian Mask

A Star Trek: Voyager Novel

written and illustrated by
L. R. Bowen

PART FOUR: PURSUIT AND CAPTURE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

IT WAS TWO and a half days before Chakotay regained consciousness, and Janeway spent as much time as she decently could in Sickbay. The injured guards were fit for duty a few hours after the fight, and those who had suffered burns and radiation poisoning were healed in a day, Tuvok and Torres getting back to their stations at their own insistence. Janeway visited all the patients every few hours until Tuvok was able to alternate on the bridge with her, and then she held vigil by the one still- occupied bed. She had some excuse to be in Sickbay on her own account, having had little to eat or drink during her captivity. A little dehydrated and weak, but the emotional reaction had not yet taken hold. The fight, the pursuit, the shock of seeing her first officer nearly killed had pumped her adrenaline so high that the aftermath of her own narrow escape from a helpless death had been submerged.

"Don't be frightened when it does set in," said the doctor, checking her fluid levels as she sat on one of the beds in the examination area. "The symptoms may be quite sudden, and quite severe. A natural reaction to extreme stress." He glanced at his scanner and seemed satisfied with the readout.

"That's very encouraging, Doctor," said Janeway, narrowing her eyes at him. Kes came over, smiled humorously at her and handed the doctor a PADD.

"Ah, very good," he said, looking at the screen and beaming. "These results indicate that the tissue transplants are growing on their own. I did a commendable job of surgery, of course, but the rest is up to the patient. Commander Chakotay's own natural healing processes are taking over." Janeway slipped off the bed and moved towards the intensive care area again. "Now, Captain--" he began, but broke off when a small hand touched his arm. Kes had thoughtfully left a chair for her, although the doctor kept muttering about clutter and upset routines.

Janeway sat down and rested her arms against the edge of Chakotay's bed.

He was sleeping deeply, no longer as pale as he had been. Covered to the armpits with the insulating blanket, his bare arms resting at his sides. Janeway laid her palms on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of breath, the steady beat of his heart. A strong man, who was already recovering. No need to worry now. But she could not help but feel that her presence might benefit him, that her touch might somehow help to heal him.

When she touched him, there was a wholeness in her mind, a fit of one to the other, two elements sufficient to themselves but together creating an entity entirely new. She had felt that wholeness before, faintly at first as they had evaluated one another in the first turbulent hours of their acquaintance, but with sufficient conviction that she had not hesitated to perform the logical action in inviting Chakotay to be her first officer. Janeway remembered the quizzical look he had given her, the sideways glance at Tuvok as if to ask what emotion a Vulcan might hide at being displaced, the quirk of his lips as he smiled and nodded shortly in agreement. She had shaken his hand then, and the touch had sealed some nebulous connection into permanence. The Starfleet uniform had fit him again, the protocol of their positions had settled over them, the potential of their synergy had been directed at the challenges that faced them. Perhaps that was all it could have sustained at first. But the coal of fire had always been there, banked, and burning slowly, growing gradually in warmth and strength almost unnoted. Friendship, she had hoped, even when they had disagreed so sharply that the discussions had adjourned to the ready room. Trust, so that she had forgotten his past and seen him only as her officer. The honesty of comrades, the respect between commander and executive. They had these apart from anything else, the ground established now under their feet. From this firm base, could they explore something more? Having once glanced into the heights, dizzying mountains above the cautious plain, could they ever hold themselves back from wishing to scale them?

His hands, the fingers well-turned and straight, blue veins showing through the brown skin. Janeway picked one up again, just to hold it for a while, to curl her fingers under his and feel his warmth. Even the right hand was responsive now. Hardly a trace of the phaser blast that had nearly burned his life away. The pinker color of his reconstructed arm and of the right side of his chest, and a slackness of the muscles in contrast with the left, were all that reminded her of that sudden burst of deadly light. At the time, her mind and body focused on the chase, she had not allowed herself a moment's panic. The priorities of the situation had changed when he was wounded, that was all. The Cardassian had escaped, or perished; the sensor logs could not confirm either. Voyager had left the planet far behind, though one Kazon ship still pursued, and they were taking a zigzagging course in the attempt to lose it.

Quiet, but tense and watchful, a deeply inhaled breath waiting to be let out. Janeway was aware that she was nearing the brink of her endurance. Her nervous energy would not let her sleep more than a few hours at a time. She would find herself lying wide awake, staring at the wall and running over the events of the past few days again and again.

The depth of her own anger at Kattell had shaken her. It went beyond the wish for justice, into something personal and unreasonable, elusive to her conscious mind. Janeway had felt her emotions echoed back from Kattell, a darkened mirror of herself. A warning of the dangers of unbridled desires? A woman wanting control of her destiny, determined and dedicated to her goals, but reaching out to another person for aid and support. Companionship, yes, but also that deeper connection, the bond of spirit. Another soul to find in the darkness, to remind her that she was not alone, that another hand could clasp hers as they moved through the deeps of the limitless universe. And the warmth of a man's body, his touch on her skin, the smell of his hair, the softness of his mouth as he breathed into hers.

Chakotay was still, quiet, the electricity muted, his heartbeat slow.

There was nothing she could do, physically; only wait and watch for signs of waking. She reminded herself that the doctor had said he was healing on his own. What difference did it make whether she stayed with him or not? Her duty-- My duty is to my crew, she said to herself, and to the good of Voyager. Commander Chakotay has done his duty, far beyond it, and I will repay him in every way that I can.

"I was reading," said Kes, coming to make an adjustment on Chakotay's intravenous feeding pack, "that many societies practice laying on of hands to aid the sick and injured."

Janeway started a little, and looked at herself, resting on her first officer's chest, her left hand clasping his right. She was reaching across his body, her head inclined so that their faces were very close.

"It sounds like a lovely custom," Kes continued. "It reassures the patient that others are close and care for them, and it is beneficial for the person who performs the therapy as well."

The intimacy embarrassed her suddenly, although Kes certainly meant well, and Janeway straightened up and released Chakotay's hand. The fingers twitched and opened, then relaxed. She had seen that reaction many times over the last two days, and had thought at first that meant his waking was imminent, but the doctor had explained it away as mere reflexes.

"At least, that's what the research papers say," said Kes. Glancing at the wall readout, then at Janeway, she entered a few numbers on a PADD. "Increased brain wave activity," she said softly, and slipped away so quietly that Janeway was almost startled to find that she was alone with Chakotay again. Her head lowered slowly once more to fill her vision with him, and she sought out his hand where she had abandoned it. His face was so composed, so peaceful, but relaxed in profound sleep, unguarded. His lips faintly parted, the long planes of his cheeks softened, the warmth of his eyes concealed under lids that moved slightly with his dreams. She wanted to be there when he opened them again to the world. Duty permitting. Tuvok might call her at any moment, although he had been refraining from doing so unless necessary.

The doctor had not insisted that she move Chakotay's medicine bundle, at least. It was still under the bed where she had placed it, wrapped and tied as she had found it in his quarters. Torres had hung his medicine wheel as soon as she had been able and arranged the stones in silence, passing each one over his body, raising it to her own head and then attaching it to the painted design. These artifacts of his were precious to him, Janeway knew, but she had little idea of their workings. Had he been able to consult his animal guide while wrestling with his dilemma? Janeway had heard nothing through the eavesdropping device to suggest that he had. His recovery now might be as much psychic as physical. He had been alone, cut off, unable to confide in anyone when his situation must have tormented him. His outburst at Tuvok after the insults Rutskoi had flung at him--how had he told him what was going on? Somehow Tuvok had avoided telling her. She knew it had happened after she had delivered her message during the transmission, but the details had not emerged yet. After Chakotay woke, she would ask him.

His breathing changed rhythm, a slight catch and hesitation, a heavier exhalation. His fingers closed and squeezed hers firmly for a moment, then relaxed again. Janeway looked at his face and followed the movement of expression over it, the contraction of the corners of his mouth, not quite a smile, the creasing of his brows. A quick glint of white under the eyelashes. She almost called for the doctor, but suddenly wanted this all to herself. No one in his sight but her when his eyes should open. He took a deep breath and swallowed, clenched his jaw and pushed his lips out, pulling the hollows into his cheeks. His face smoothed again and became so still that she thought she might have been mistaken. Then his eyes blinked open and gazed at her, clear and dark. Recognized her, took in her presence at his bedside. Chakotay smiled almost shyly and his eyes half closed again. Soft words shaped his lips, inaudible. They were not spoken to her, but to the air and to the elements, in thanksgiving. Janeway wondered if she should break the silence yet, and with what. Her gaze could not hold all of him, mere sight could not encompass what she needed to find before her. She knew she was trembling, and that he could feel it in her hands. His eyes turned to her, told her he was waiting.

"Commander," she said, and regretted it instantly. "...Chakotay," she added, but the prefix had defined the phrase. "Chakotay--" she began again. What did she want to say to him? She had waited for two days, turning the possibilities over and over, never settling on any sentiment for longer than an hour. Congratulations, gratitude, some impulse of the moment-- Janeway reached to touch his face, and the doctor came over with an attitude of cheery bustle.

"I see that the patient has regained consciousness. Excellent. Commander Chakotay, how do you feel?"

"All right, I guess," he replied. "I gather I haven't been incinerated in a reactor meltdown."

Janeway began to laugh as he raised his brows at her. The full realization of their ordeal broke through as the dam of her emotions opened, and she wept like a child in front of him, her tears streaking his chest, until Kes came and led her to her quarters.

"WHO PUT IT THERE?"

"The captain."

"Why?"

"I believe she thought it would be beneficial."

Chakotay smiled in bafflement, and picked up his medicine bundle. "I wonder where she got that idea."

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her? Hold still." The doctor passed a whirring diagnostic scanner over his right arm.

"That's probably not the most important question I have," said Chakotay softly.

"I'm not going to release you for duty for another twenty-four hours at least, Commander. Any consultations with the captain should wait until then. You still need rest."

"I'm not going to argue with that," he replied, and lay down on the bed again with a sigh. "How many more tests?" He lifted his arm and looked at it, flexed the fingers of his right hand. How much of it was him and how much new? It seemed mostly familiar, but the skin was soft, tender and flushed, only slowly taking on its proper color.

"Nearly done." The doctor tapped at a console. "The grafts have fully integrated into your nervous and circulatory systems. Your unconscious state was the result of wound shock and the radiation damage to your organs. It aided healing, as a matter of fact; I might have induced coma in any case because of the severity of your condition. But you're fit as a fiddle now." The doctor folded his tricorder with a snap and nodded. "I've never had the opportunity to perform such extensive reconstructive surgery before. An edifying experience."

Chakotay smiled. "I'm glad somebody enjoyed it." He sat up, grimaced, and slid off the bed. "Do I have your permission to return to my quarters, Doctor?"

"Certainly, Commander. But no work until you've had a good night's sleep, and light duty for a week, or as long as you feel necessary."

"Where's my uniform?"

"Here you are, Commander." Kes put a folded one on the chair beside him. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, I suppose not--except, well--"

"Ah, of course," said the doctor. "I'll give you some guidelines on physical therapy and an exercise routine to follow until you're fully healed. Your usual one will be too heavy. I'll have them in my office when you're ready." The doctor drew the privacy curtain and departed. Kes was about to follow him, but glanced back. She let the curtain fall and turned to face Chakotay, her hands behind her back.

"Commander? I...I don't want to pry--"

"I never thought you were the prying type, Kes. What is it?"

"If you'd rather not, it's all right, but from some things the captain said, it sounded like you might need someone to talk to."

"Things the captain said?"

"While she was here sitting with you."

"What?"

"She spent most of her time right next to your bed. Sometimes she talked to you. I wasn't trying to listen, but her voice carries well... And then this morning after you woke up, I stayed with her for a while in her quarters. She...was very upset. She didn't say exactly what happened while both of you were prisoners. She asked me to call Tuvok, and I left when he came. But you haven't had a chance to speak to anyone."

Chakotay looked up into the blue eyes, the porcelain face framed with flaxen hair, pure and guileless and lovely. "Kes, it wouldn't be very pleasant to hear."

"I know. But if I can help, then I don't mind hearing whatever you want to tell me."

Chakotay let out a puff of air and half-smiled. "You have no idea what you're getting into. This isn't something--"

"Commander. I know I'm not quite two years old, and that seems very young to you. But remember, I was a prisoner of the Kazon too, for weeks. I might know more about what can happen to people in that situation than you're giving me credit for." She smiled, he looked into her eyes, and for not the first time since he had met her he realized that she held a very ancient wisdom in her bright gaze. Sometimes the ability to touch the infinite was simply inborn, and not hard-won, and depended only on the clarity of the soul. "Neelix helped me very much. Just having someone to talk to helps. Especially someone you love, if that person is near."

Chakotay closed his eyes for a moment. "You're right, Kes. There are some things I would like to tell you about. I know that you will keep them to yourself, as they don't concern only me. And when I'm finished, I'll go and tell my spirit guide the same things, and perhaps that will be the end of it. Perhaps I can let go of something I should never have tried to grasp."

"It's not something you are holding, I think." Kes's gaze was faraway, though she looked directly at him. "It's a part of you. You would have to cut it out and rebuild yourself."

"Yes. I would. I'm not too good at surgery."

"I've done a lot of reading on that lately."

"Have a seat, Kes. This could take a long time."

SHE MADE HIM RECITE every moment of his thoughts to her, sitting quietly with the tears running down her perfect face, nodding occasionally. It was like giving the weight of years to a child, the whole bloody mess dumped at her feet, staining her with his festering wounds of the soul. But only at first. Under her gaze, utterly lacking in censure or fear, he felt purified. She did not take a stain, and could not be poisoned. And she took his hand when he told her what he had done to save his captain's life, and what Janeway had done to help him.

"She must wonder how you feel about that," the little Ocampa said.

"I think she knows."

"And you wonder how she feels?"

"I...thought I knew. Now, I can't..."

"Yes, you said so. But have you asked her?"

"Of course not. I haven't had the chance, and I...if she hasn't changed her mind, I don't want to hear her tell me that again." Here, right here in Sickbay, had been Kattell's words, I can't imagine how I ever loved you. Their sting far less profound than what had happened on the holodeck with Janeway...

"What did she really tell you?"

Chakotay closed his eyes, seeing violet leaves, sun on the water. "She pushed me away. She told me to stop. She said she had led me to believe that she would...make love with me, but that wasn't true."

"She said that?"

"Basically, yes. And I can't imagine anything would change her mind--"

"Not even what you've just gone through together? Wouldn't that affect anyone's thinking?"

"I don't know...I don't know." He dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "I hoped...but then Tuvok and I...he showed me something about that kind of feeling. He's been around a lot longer than I have. He's dealt with it, in his way, and there's a piece of him in my head right now. He's telling me she was right anyway. It wouldn't work." He dropped his hands. "I should know that from my own experience."

"But that was with a different person. A person who was capable of the things you are describing to me. How can you compare her to Captain Janeway?"

Chakotay's head snapped up. Gods, how can I? "She compared herself to Captain Janeway. She had me thinking like her--"

"You know she was wrong. How do you know you are not wrong?"

"I...I just don't think I am. And I know it would be better if the captain doesn't want me. I can bear it. I can stand pain." He touched the tattoo on his left temple.

"Better for whom? For her, or for you?"

"Kes?"

"If she is the one who is pushing you away, then you can put all the weight on her. You don't have to work so hard at resisting your feelings. She has to do it for both of you."

Chakotay felt a deep shudder throughout his body, and his skin went cold. Like the impact of a stunner.

"Commander--oh, are you all right? You look so pale--I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Kes put her hand on his forehead. "Doctor--" she began to call.

"No, please." Chakotay turned and let Kes' hand slip away. "I'm just tired. I'd better go and get some sleep, in my own bed."

"I'm so sorry. I've hurt you, and I meant to help."

"You have helped, Kes. You'll never know how much. But I'm afraid you're wrong. Captain Janeway isn't interested in disrupting the command protocol of Voyager and putting her in jeopardy. Not when we've fought so hard to keep her safe."

"Of course not. She loves her ship, and her crew. She's a good captain, and she deserves everything we can give her in return."

"Yes." Chakotay looked down at his hands, then slowly dropped his face into them. He felt Kes' light touch on his hair.

"I think you should talk to her. Just to get to know her again, after so much has happened. Don't pay any attention to what I said. What do I know? I'm not even two years old." He looked up to see her smiling, the clarity of her wisdom shining in her eyes, and she slipped out between the curtains.

Chakotay dressed slowly, taking off the blue medical pajamas he wore and pulling his service undershirt over his head with some difficulty. That arm was definitely not up to a hundred percent. He'd need to limber it up once it felt less limp. He stepped into his jumpsuit and pulled the sleeves up and over his shoulders. With the front fastening left open well below the yoke as was his habit, he pinned his rank insignia to the collar of his shirt and his com badge to the left breast. Back in harness. He smiled, parted the curtains and walked out into the main Sickbay area, carrying his talismans with him. "Chakotay to Janeway," he said, and tapped his com badge.

"Captain Janeway is not available," replied the computer voice.

"Not available?"

"That is correct," said the doctor, emerging from his office.

"But she was here earlier today--"

"She is in her quarters, and Lieutenant Tuvok left instructions that she was not to be disturbed." The doctor raised his brows. "Lieutenant Tuvok is very protective of his captain. He'd make a good doctor, if it weren't for that Vulcan bedside manner."

Chakotay smiled wryly. "I guess I'll have to give it a few days. She had to wait a while for me to wake up, and I can wait for her too." A little of his regained well-being drained away. She didn't want to talk to anyone? Not even-- Perhaps especially not him. He would be a reminder of some of the worst experiences of her life, and she might need distance.

"Get some rest, Commander," said the doctor, cocking his head with a knowing smile.

"All right," he replied, and left for his quarters.

As he passed through the corridors, he ran his hand along the bulkheads, a long caress. Crew members greeted him with smiles or wide eyes, and he nodded to them, but his obvious fatigue excused him from any long conversation. When the turbolift opened and he saw his door, he realized just how tired he was. Janeway was just down the corridor, and with her safely there, he would sleep very well. He passed his own door and took a few more steps, feeling drawn, wanting to sound the chime in spite of warnings. She was empty, she was in need. But she was not in any shape to speak to anyone. Chakotay laid a hand on the bulkhead, about where the dividing wall would be, and said a prayer before retreating again.

In his own sitting room, he put down what he was carrying. "Lights," he said, and the room illuminated. Before he sat down, he touched each wall and the viewport, marking the four directions, orienting himself. Spreading out his medicine bundle, he handled each object, naming them softly, and placed his palm on the akoonah.

"Akoo-cheemoya," Chakotay said, and closed his eyes. "I am far from the bones of my grandfathers, but I am home."

"CAPTAIN..."

The front of his uniform was still dampened from her tears, but he had not recoiled at her display. Her emotions were not the illogical, self- indulgent exhibition of a child or of an ordinary Human. Her weeping was not light drops shaken from tree tops, but the spilling over of a profound ocean. He had grown up near the sea, the blue expanse that draped sere Vulcan, and he knew its power.

"Captain," he said again. "Shall I call Kes back?"

"No," she said, and her voice was steady now. "I'm all right. Please, Tuvok, stay and talk to me. If you can--how many of them are still following?"

"The one that has remained on our trail has been joined by another."

"Damn." Janeway rose and crossed to the viewport, looking out as if she could see the Kazon, nearly half a light-year behind them, stubborn as sehlats on blood-scent. "I wonder if that's only Culluh's wounded pride..."

"His sense of priorities is limited by the demands of his martial society."

"I wonder about my own priorities sometimes," she replied, and smiled at him.

"I have not found fault with them," he said, puzzled.

"Thank you, Tuvok." She sat down again, obviously exhausted, her face pale and eyes swollen. "But I've had reason to reevaluate some of them lately..."

"Indeed?"

"I've told you what happened. Enough of it, at any rate."

"I cannot see why adversity would cause you to change your basic way of thinking. Are not moral principles meant to apply in all cases, no matter how extreme?"

"There speaks my compass." She laughed slightly. "No, I can't say my basic principles could change from adversity. But my perspective on the situations to which I have to apply them--that's another matter." Janeway picked up a tissue and blew her nose. "I should clean up and get back to the bridge."

"Captain, you are not well."

"I'm perfectly all right. Frankly, I think getting back to work would do me good."

"Please do not concern yourself with the minor details of the ship's functioning. You may remain off duty with no adverse effect on--"

"Tuvok, are you saying I'm redundant? I don't think so. If the Kazon are hanging on our tail, you're not keeping me out of that chair. And what's this I hear about the damage to the port nacelle? Why does Torres have doubts that the repairs will stand up to sustained high warp factors?"

"Ah...I have this morning's report in my files."

"Good. I'll download it and read it, and then visit Engineering. Now get out of here so I can change into a fresh uniform, and I'll see you on the bridge. I think you need to do the same. No arguments, Lieutenant." Janeway glanced up at him sideways.

He made one last attempt, although he calculated the odds of success at less than two percent. "Commander Chakotay has placed himself back on the duty roster for the second shift tomorrow and can certainly deal with the ordinary running--"

"Chakotay nearly died. If it hadn't been for you, he would have died. I wasn't even particularly hurt. I had some cuts on my feet, and I was dehydrated and hungry. I am certainly not going to let him go back on duty before I do. I was on partial duty for two days before...this, and you didn't object too strongly then. What in heaven's name is this all about?"

For the first time in his life, he could not admit his own motives. The illogic of his thoughts troubled him. Why should he be concerned that his captain would meet her first officer at this time? "Captain, your emotional state..."

"My emotional state? Tuvok?"

"You have been deeply disturbed, Captain. Your mental equilibrium may not have returned, and there may be danger--"

"I've never heard you express concern about my emotional state before." She rose, turned away and moved to the viewport again. Her unbound hair concealed her profile when she spoke to him again. "I assure you, I have dealt with it. I apologize for subjecting you to it just now, but I had to speak to you before I could give way entirely and let it all out. That is how experience has taught me to cope with the overwhelming; simply to acknowledge it and admit its power. If I conceal it, I have no way to surmount it. I don't know yet if I will be able to put every incident of the last week behind me. That might take a long time to discover. But my equilibrium has returned. If you like, I'll speak to the doctor, but I'm going back to my bridge, and that's that."

"Yes, Captain," he said, and turned to the door, resigned.

She looked back at him, and smiled with her eyes shining, moving slowly over his face. "It's good to be back with you, my friend. It's been difficult for you as well."

"At some points the odds of success seemed low."

"I count on my people to beat the odds. And I don't ask anything of them that I don't expect of myself. Now go on and get back to the bridge to keep an eye on those Kazon. I'll be there shortly. Dismissed."

"Aye, Captain." He made his slight bow, and left.

As the door shut, he saw Janeway pick up a small object from the table and cradle it in her hands. Something smooth and dark and rounded, like a stone from the bed of a river.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"COMMANDER--" Chakotay was working hard on the weight, curling his right arm against the pull of the machine, with a grunt each time he touched his knuckles to his shoulder again.

"Yes, Ensign," he replied, short from exertion. Kim looked a little nervous, and Torres hovered behind him, tugging on both ends of the towel around her neck. Kim glanced back at her, and she gave him a "well, go on" expression that her forehead ridges made emphatic.

"Well, Commander, um, we were wondering, that is, we'd like to ask you if we could do a, a thing for the crew, and, um, for you and the captain."

"A...thing," repeated Chakotay, finishing his set and releasing the handgrip. He raised both arms above his head and stretched, pulling on his right hand with the left.

"Yes, a party."

"A party? Now?"

"Um, well, Neelix was talking about one before all this happened, and he said you told him at the time that we couldn't, but we really have something to celebrate now."

"That might be true, Harry. Go on."

"I was thinking...if people donated replicator rations, and we used some of the stored food, and had some entertainment, it could be really nice. I was looking at the inventory--" Kim held out a PADD. "It wouldn't make that big a dent in the supplies."

"Harry, we have three Kazon ships chasing us. We've had to maintain Warp Six for days. It could be a while before we can stop for food again."

"I knew you'd say that, Commander..." said Neelix, puffing through the door to join the group. "But as Morale Officer, I really have to insist." Chakotay glanced up at him. "We've got you and the captain back alive after we thought we might lose you both, and that's the kind of event that really needs an observation of some kind. People want to talk to you and welcome you back on duty, you know. Back from the dead, practically, so Kes tells me. And..." He leaned down and put a hand on Chakotay's shoulder, murmuring low so that Torres and Kim couldn't hear. "My offer of assistance still stands. No better time than a party to talk about love, eh?"

Chakotay could not answer, and Neelix went on. "I was reading some of your Human books--the ones on food--and I ran across a wonderful line somewhere. Let's see...'Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.' Isn't that a lovely sentiment?"

Kim made a choking sound, and Torres laughed.

"No, really, I think it cuts right to the heart of the matter. So we've got Kazon tracking us. So there's another ship every time we look back. We're all together and alive, and I think that's something to celebrate. If we had to wait until we were completely out of danger to have a good time, we'd wait an awfully long time. Sometimes you have to take some risks and use up some resources to do what's important. Can't keep things in reserve forever."

Chakotay let out a long chuckling sigh, and smiled.

"Ah. I always thought you were a risk-taker, Commander. A man after my own heart." He gave Chakotay a hearty slap on the back, and started at the grunt of pain. "Oops. That's your bad shoulder, is it? Sorry. Better start getting that into condition." He bustled out.

Chakotay got up from the bench, picked up his towel and mopped his forehead, keeping his face pressed into the towel for a long moment.

"So, um, we thought tonight at 1900 hours in the dining room," said Kim.

"All right. I know a conspiracy when I see one." He laughed and looked up at the ceiling. "At least when they come to me and beg for permission."

"Well, we didn't want to bother you or Captain Janeway with the details, so we kind of organized it already. Neelix said he had some surprises for us."

"Is this why I had all those requests for shift changes?"

"Yes, sir, I guess so," Kim laughed. "So, will you be there?"

"I'd be honored, Harry, of course. Have you asked the captain yet?"

"Yes, sir, she said she could come for a while."

Chakotay sat down at the leg press station and pulled off his exercise jacket. "Sounds like you're all set. Dress uniforms, right?"

"Oh, do you think--" Kim began, then realized he was being joshed and grinned. "We'll see you there, Commander." Torres punched Kim lightly in the arm as he passed her on his way out the door, and headed for the showers. Chakotay smiled to himself, and started his lower-body workout.

"CAPTAIN."

"Commander." Janeway paused in the corridor and smiled at the other guest of honor, also arriving fashionably late. She hadn't seen him since she had left him in Sickbay the previous day, her vision blurred with tears. Her gaze lingered over him; she could see very clearly now. Chakotay was deliberate in his movements, his tread a little heavier than usual as if he felt the weight of his body. Should she order him to take a few day's break? He probably wouldn't take that any better than she had taken Tuvok's suggestion. If she could use work as her therapy, she should grant Chakotay the same privilege. Familiarity and routine. He had worn his uniform; Janeway wondered if she should have done the same. No, it was a party, and she had so little opportunity to get her dresses out of the closet. Chakotay bowed slightly, glancing over her long blue skirt and short-sleeved top. He seemed to want to say something, hesitated, then offered his arm with a half-smile. Janeway was taken aback for a moment, then saw it as an appropriate gesture, if a little formal. His smile broadened. She could laugh and refuse, treat it as a joke, or--she could slip her hand under his elbow and be escorted the last few steps along the corridor. Just like Starfleet banquets at Headquarters. Perfect old-fashioned protocol. What would he prefer? He had offered... She smiled and bowed herself, loose tendrils of hair drifting forward from her relaxed bun.

"You look very...festive, Captain," he remarked as she took his arm. "But I suppose a uniform is always appropriate."

"Certainly, Commander," Janeway answered. There was an undertone there she could not quite make out.

"Especially considering that the only other choice in my case is old work clothes."

"Haven't you ever replicated anything new for yourself?" Janeway wondered if he really didn't need anything else.

"Frankly, Captain, I prefer to use my rations on things other than my wardrobe," he chuckled. He seemed relaxed and easy--almost. Trivialities of conversation, a measured stride down the corridor to the dining room. Trying to keep his distance, not quite succeeding--his arm drew in closer to his side until she bumped against him. Their glances met, and they stopped in the corridor.

"Chakotay..."

"...Yes?"

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling the warmth of his gaze roll over her. He did not ask her what she meant, but seemed to take it in his own way. His eyes moved over her face, his lips parting. Hot and cold and deliciously warm, her blood surged through her and her breathing changed profoundly. Chakotay's arm tightened again where she held it, and he turned to face her completely. Both of them were immobile, but trembling--

"'Scuse me, Captain," panted a young lieutenant, towing another officer by the hand and brushing past. "Sorry..." They darted into the dining hall with embarrassed smiles. Chakotay had dropped his gaze when she looked back, and he was breathing slowly with conscious measure, chewing his lips. It was in the air between them, it was waiting to be said, but this could not be the time. Would it ever be? Could she ever justify to herself what she wanted so much? The doubts were in her face when Chakotay looked up again, and he studied her, then turned to resume his course. He took a step down the corridor, propelling her with him, halted again, took two very deep breaths, and strode on.

They were at the door, and the muffled stir of voices told her that the room was full of crewmembers waiting for them.

"Grand entrance, Captain?" Chakotay asked.

Janeway rolled her eyes slightly. "They would probably like that." Chakotay straightened up, made a show of pulling in his gut, and they stepped forward to open the door.

Packed to the walls. A roomful of heads turning, and a roomful of smiles and applause. Janeway acknowledged her crew with a gracious inclination of the head, then looked up at Chakotay. He was nodding and smiling tightly, obviously moved. Their eyes met, and she recognized identical emotions of pride, protectiveness, loyalty. Their crew. His as much as hers. Their charge and greatest mission, the service of the commanders to the commanded. Someone was leading a cheer at the back of the room. Anna Rutskoi.

An impromptu receiving line began to form, Ensign Kim at the head. Chakotay's look of tolerant amusement was so characteristic of him, so endearing-- Janeway was unprepared for the massive wash of desire that flooded through her. Trembling, the perspiration starting on her palms and forehead, between her breasts. The substance of her equilibrium melting, moving lower, the hot flow draining through her ribcage and into her pelvis. Oh, and in a room filled with officers and crew, all looking at them, at her-- Chakotay's arm was pressing against her side, and she gripped it for balance. Everyone--two thirds of the ship's complement, waiting to greet her, smiling with their hands outstretched. She had to let go of him--no, she could still shake hands while holding on to him. He couldn't use his right arm while she claimed it, but he could manage with the left.

"How is your arm, Commander?" she asked, clasping hands and clapping shoulders with most of Stellar Cartography. "A little weak still?"

"Strong enough," he replied. He stood quietly, allowing her to lean on him while the beat of her heart shook her with her longing. Janeway wanted to embrace him, reach up to stroke the side of his face, guide his lips down to hers-- She had to close her eyes for a moment.

"Stuart--Jenny," she said, recovering, shaking hands. Several young Maquis men were monopolizing Chakotay, eagerly asking questions about the fight with the Kazon.

"Ask Torres," he told them. "She worked on them a lot more than I did." The security detail that he had led to the base came in a group and stood at attention as one by one they gripped his hand. Rutskoi said nothing, but glanced at the arm the captain held so tightly, then snapped a small salute. Janeway's emotions threatened to overflow again. She had cried all the fear and pain and despair out of her system. Now the tears that filmed her eyes were happy ones, happiness so acute it ached more than the worst of sorrows.

"No one's eating anything, and the pejuta is getting cold!" wailed Neelix.

"We certainly can't have that," replied Janeway, laughing gratefully. She tore herself away from Chakotay and strode to the table where Neelix stood, glancing over the dishes and bowls placed there. Dozens of crewmembers had donated replicator rations and tinkered with programs to produce a banquet. Neelix had provided half a dozen dishes of his own, and fruits and berries from the lost gardens were piled in platters. She took a plate and flatware, and said, "Engage." There was a mad rush to line up behind her.

"Let me recommend the angla'bosque," said Neelix officiously, pointing to a huge kettle of multicolored goulash. He seized a ladle and plopped a generous helping on her plate. "And the keema balls in pureed--"

"Thank you, Mr. Neelix," said Janeway firmly, and took some fruit and pastries. She saw a bowl of corn salad, reportedly one of Chakotay's favorite dishes, and decided to try some. Her plate was full now, so she took a glass of pejuta and looked for a place to sit. The big table by the viewport, where she could talk to as many people as possible. This was her favorite kind of party--plenty of food, and plenty of company.

"Isn't there any booze?" boomed a loud voice behind her. A Maquis crewman--Dalby.

"Have some fruit juice," said Neelix, and was rewarded with a snort. Janeway sat down and ate her dinner as well as she could, since every time she took a bite, someone else came up to greet her. It didn't really matter; the presence of her crew was nourishment to her. She looked for Chakotay. He had not yet visited the buffet, but was in the center of a knot of people, apparently re-telling a battle; his hands were describing ship maneuvers in the air. Lieutenant Benow, her tawny braid pinned neatly around her head, was following every gesture with rapt attention. Yes, he was a handsome man, and a fine figure in a uniform. Many of the crew undoubtedly found him attractive. What might that mean for their attitude to a connection between their commanders? How many considerations must she account for? Janeway turned the question over and over again while she exchanged small talk with the head of Xenobiology. Another young lieutenant, dark and curly-haired, hovered nearby and took a seat at her table as soon as one became vacant. She gave Janeway a cup of replicated coffee, beamed when thanked, and immediately asked her what kinds of books she liked to read. A circle gathered around her like the one around Chakotay, smiling faces and lively discussion. The warmth and affection surrounded Janeway on every side.

"Bridge to Janeway," said Tuvok's voice, and she touched her com badge.

"Go ahead."

"I apologize for interrupting, Captain, but you asked to be called if any additional Kazon ships approached."

"How many?" she asked softly, not wishing to put a damper on the festivities if possible.

"Two," he replied. "They are making no aggressive moves, but are holding position directly above us at a considerable distance."

"I'd better take a look." She set down her plate and approached Chakotay, whose group of listeners parted for her. "Commander--I've been called to the bridge."

"Kazon," he said, keeping a smile on his face for the benefit of onlookers. The circle closed again around them both.

"Yes. There may be no immediate cause for concern, but are we ready for trouble?"

"Certainly we are, Captain. All critical systems are staffed, and we can get to battle stations in less than five minutes."

"I hope I won't be long--I don't want to miss too much." She glanced at Ensign Kim, who was directing several crew members with musical instruments to set up chairs in a semi-circle against one wall.

Chakotay smiled. "We'll wait for you."

KIM'S FACE FELL when he saw that Janeway had left, but Chakotay assured him she would be back. The musicians went to get some more food from the rapidly diminishing spread, and Chakotay followed them, aware that he was actually very hungry. Three days of intravenous feeding could do that to a man. He appreciated a good meal, one offered to everyone equally so he could take as much as he wanted. And he felt the need for distraction, as the conversation had not yet moved his thoughts away from Janeway. She had held his arm so tightly, looking flushed and very animated, even feverish. He had thought for a moment she might be feeling faint. Perhaps she was still ill--but her conversation had been lively, her eyes clear and bright. This was a very public event, and they would have no chance for private conversation, but afterwards, maybe... He resolved to take Kes' advice, and simply speak to Janeway alone. No matter what the outcome. The thought unsettled him, but exhilarated him at the same time. Got to run risks to do anything important... Taking a plate, he loaded up with cake, corn salad, some excellent-looking frijoles with tortilla strips and salsa, smoked stuffed anchos--

"Commander!" Neelix was beaming, holding a covered tureen. "I saved this to bring out especially for you. These ravenous hordes would have slurped it all up in no time."

Probably mildewed leola root au gratin, Chakotay thought. "What is it, Neelix?" The gaily dressed chef set the dish down, whipped off the lid with a flourish, and handed him a ladle and a large soup bowl. That aroma...no, it couldn't be--and the contents were somewhat...greenish- yellow...

"I used vornox milk, of course--it's got much more flavor--but the recipe is perfectly authentic," said Neelix. "I did a little research while I was recording all my best dishes in the archives. You Humans do some amusing things with your food." He chuckled and waggled his bristly brows.

Chakotay dipped the ladle in the tureen with an experimental air. Right consistency, at least. The pieces chopped a little too coarsely, but no matter. Smelled...almost right. He filled his bowl with some trepidation, took a spoonful and a deep breath, tried to think of a tactful phrase so he wouldn't blurt out the first thing that came to mind. The color gave him pause. Neelix was waiting, the pride and anticipation beginning to fade to a question. The things I do for this crew, Chakotay thought, and sipped at the spoon.

He felt the smile begin inside his mouth before it curved his lips. Damn. Mushroom soup. A little spicy, and the milk was sweeter than it should be, but not bad at all. "Thanks, Neelix," he said, and the Talaxian's look of pure happiness was almost more satisfying than the taste of the soup. He clapped Neelix on the shoulder, picked up his dishes, and went to find a seat.

A table full of Maquis and Starfleet hailed him, shoving chairs down to make room. Lieutenant Carey and Torres were diagramming on the table top with fingertips, heads together, but looked up as he sat down. "Carey, you helped save a lot of lives," Chakotay said, and reached out to shake the lieutenant's hand.

"Well, Lieutenant Torres--" Carey began modestly, half rising.

"I know all about Torres, and she knows it," said Chakotay. "I haven't said it to you, and I'm doing it now. You're a good officer, and a good engineer, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Commander," said Carey, and they nodded to each other in mutual understanding.

"What's that crap you're drinking, Commander?" asked Dalby. "Here, spike it up." He shoved a bottle half full of clear liquid down the table. Chakotay cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Liberated medical supplies?"

"No, sir. Strictly home brew. The troll--that is, the Morale Officer--wanted to know if we had any...traditional handicrafts to occupy us in off-hours. So I said, if I had about forty kilos of grain, I could occupy a lot of off hours, and keep plenty of morale floatin' around too."

"Grain?"

"Corn's good, or lots of other things. But he gave me something like potatoes--good and starchy--they were spoiling anyway, so they had a head start."

"Where's the still, Dalby?"

"Wherever it needs to be, Commander. I build 'em portable. Drink up." He craned down the table and splashed a good ten centiliters into Chakotay's glass. Chakotay glanced around and saw signs of mild intoxication around the whole table, except for Torres. She generally abstained, since her Klingon heritage meant her reaction to alcohol was unpredictable. He looked at his drink skeptically. His own ancestors had had reason to curse the existence of "firewater", though they had certainly known how to make the milder kinds of fermented beverages. Gerron reached for the bottle, poured most of it into his own glass, and tossed it back.

"You sure you want to do that, Crewman?" asked Carey, laughing as Gerron choked, wheezed and turned bright red. "Uisge beagh, the water of life," said Carey, and poured himself some more from a fresh bottle. "I'm ashamed I didn't think of this myself."

"That's really smooth," the young Bajoran croaked, and took another swig.

"Whattya mean, 'usky bah'?" demanded Dalby. "This is whiskey." Carey toasted him, still laughing, and held his glass up to the light.

"Actually, it's more like vodka," said Rutskoi, passing by and plucking the glass from Carey's hand. She drained it with one swallow, exhaled with a smile, and replaced it empty. Carey looked comically at it and grabbed the bottle again. Torres was laughing. This party was shaping up to be a real event. Chakotay took another look around the room and smiled to himself. He didn't feel like being the sand in the cornmeal just now. As long as no one seemed to be overindulging, he could afford to keep one eye shut and let the doctor deal with the hangovers. Janeway hadn't called from the bridge, so she must not think there was any immediate danger. Chakotay tried a mouthful of his own drink. Diluted, the stuff wasn't so bad, and the hot bite of the alcohol was welcome. He'd better eat something first, however.

The food was so good he went back for seconds, and then thirds, and drank several glasses of various beverages, all strengthened with Maquis moonshine. Dalby had made a large batch, apparently, and several of the tables were passing bottles around.

"What is this shit?" he heard Paris say. "Give me something to rinse my mouth out with. Say, does anyone know how to make lager?"

It had been quite a while since he had drunk with a group of friends, and the company encouraged consumption. Maize beer around the fire, a memory of his grandfather and uncles. An excellent feeling. He noticed Tuvok across the room--when had he come in? and waved him over.

"Hey, Lieutenant, come to have a good time?"

The Vulcan walked slowly and stiffly through the noisy room, avoiding Neelix's offer of a plate, and stood by Chakotay's table. "The captain informed me," he said, "that I was required to put in an appearance."

"You mean," said Chakotay, laughing, "that she said, 'Tuvok, go take a break at the party while I hold down the fort.' How are things on the bridge? She's been gone for half an hour."

"The Kazon ships we detected are still holding their relative position at a distance."

"Not planning to do anything soon, then."

"In all probability."

"Have a seat. Or get some food. Neelix is bringing out another pot, I see."

"I have already eaten. And I do not plan to remain here for long."

"Only a Vulcan would eat dinner before a party," said Chakotay, and licked smoked ancho off his fingers. "What's eating you, Tuvok?" His good mood was not quite impervious to the cold expression on Tuvok's face.

"You are intoxicated, Commander."

"In all probability. Do Vulcans get drunk?"

"Consumption of non-nutritional calories in a toxic form is not logical."

"I don't feel logical. I feel--" How did he feel? Convivial, stuffed, somewhat overindulged. Bolstering his courage? The way Janeway had looked at him when the crew applauded, the way the soft wisps of shining hair brushed her cheekbones, the feel of her pulse as she wrapped her arm around his... Why did he need artificial courage? No matter what the answer would be, he had to ask. For a gift he thought she might want to give, though not entirely hers to bestow. Neither of their lives belonged to them alone.

"You look like you want to unload something, Tuvok. Shoot."

"You are correct in deducing that I wish to speak to you. But what I have to say should be said in private."

"Then you are just going to have to wait, Lieutenant. Both guests of honor are not supposed to desert the party." Chakotay looked over at the semi-circle of chairs, where the musicians were finally sitting down at Kim's urging. The ensign had a woodwind of some kind that he must have bartered for on a planet they had visited, and there were two guitarists, a violinist, and a keyboard player.

"Um...if I could have your attention, please..." Kim was saying above the din of conversation.

"Keep it down!" roared Chakotay. The noise diminished slightly.

"We're going to play some of the captain's favorite pieces that we've been rehearsing, and I've set up a comlink to the bridge so she can hear. So if we could stop talking for a few minutes, um..."

"You heard him," said Chakotay, rattling a spoon in a glass. Gradually the voices trailed off, and the standees turned to face the musicians.

"Captain, are you there?" asked Kim.

"Loud and clear, Ensign. Very thoughtful of you, I might add." Janeway sounded crisp and amused.

"My pleasure, Captain," said Kim, a broad smile on his face. He gestured with his instrument, and the quintet launched into something lively and complicated--a Bach concerto? Chakotay listened dutifully for a few moments, then realized that Tuvok's intent gaze was still fixed on him. Classical music was not Chakotay's strong suit, and no one would notice if they went next door for a minute. Might as well hash it out, whatever was on that Vulcan mind. He gestured to the door with a motion of his head. Tuvok bowed, and Chakotay rose and led him out of the dining room.

THERE WAS A SMALL conference room down the corridor, furnished with four chairs and a table for private mealtime discussions between officers. Chakotay sat down and put his feet up on another chair. Tuvok remained just inside the door, his hands tucked behind his back. Neither of them spoke for a minute, until Chakotay sighed deeply and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.

"All right, what concern do you have to share with me this time? I think Rutskoi has reconciled herself to having a former Maquis as a superior officer. And I'm sorry I let Seska get away again. I was really in league with her all along, you know. Even I wasn't working for me." The joke was lost on Tuvok, of course. Chakotay hated that. Torres at least had the grace to groan. The alcohol was taking firmer hold. Four drinks--or five? Too many, at any rate. "Say something, damn you!" he burst out suddenly, thumping his feet to the floor, slamming his hands on the table. Too loud.

"My concern," said Tuvok in a voice that could have frozen a runaway reactor, "is with your relationship...with Captain Janeway."

Chakotay let out a long, viciously sibilant breath. "I was wondering when you would get around to that. You rummage through my mind, you invade my privacy and hers--"

"The nature of the captain's duties do not allow her the same privacy as an ordinary crewmember."

"Are you telling me you've got her under surveillance, Security Chief?"

"Certainly not. But if her efficiency is impaired--"

"What makes you say that?"

"The captain spent approximately seventy-one percent of her waking hours in Sickbay at your bedside while you were unconscious. The occasion of her capture may have been precipitated by her excessive concern for one particular hostage. When she returned to the bridge this evening, she was physically...aroused, in a manner that I have noted before in conjunction with her contact with you. And your conduct on the first occasion in question--"

"The one you spied on, you god-blasted Vulcan." Chakotay clenched his fists.

"In order to gain a clearer idea of the nature of the incident on Ensign Seska's ship."

"And is it--perfectly--clear to you now? Are you SATISFIED?" Chakotay felt his face heat as he shouted. "What are you telling me to do? Drown my emotions the way you do? Amputate them at the shoulder? Humans don't work that way, and it's a source of constant amazement to me that Vulcans can think that they should." He stopped and gritted his teeth, made a quick impatient movement of the head. Tuvok was staring at the wall.

"Discipline can accomplish a great deal in any person, no matter how...passionate."

"Is that so?"

"I have seen into your mind, Commander, and you have seen into mine. You should have...some impression of what discipline and training has accomplished in my case. Indeed, I would have thought that you had benefited from the experience, and been better able to restrain yourself in many areas as I have done."

"That you've managed to remain faithful to your wife, you mean? Were you ever going to tell her?" Tuvok had gone utterly rigid, his eyes motionless. Chakotay blazed on, impelled by rage and shame at his weakness, the reins of self-control loosened by the liquor. "No--I'll bet she knows already, and just counts on your precious Vulcan discipline!"

They stood still, Tuvok staring unseeingly, Chakotay half risen out of his seat in a crouch.

"You mischaracterize my...friendship with Captain Janeway," the Vulcan said finally. "The Human perspective on such matters is obviously a limited one--"

"The hell it is. You looked into my mind--did you understand me any better than I understood you? She...she is the one thing we really agree on, and even there, you want to make my feelings into something vile."

"I will not venture to judge your emotions. I will point out to you that the expression of them has put Captain Janeway into an unfortunate quandary, and will do so again if you approach her in any way." Tuvok turned and bored his gaze into Chakotay. "We are in a critical situation, the captain has barely recovered from extreme physical and emotional stress, and any declarations on your part may jeopardize the entire ship, as the ship depends on her."

Chakotay nearly strangled on his fury before he sagged and dropped back into his chair. His head was swimming with the liquor, but the calmly-stated truth sank through the fumes. This wasn't his call. No matter what he thought he had noticed, if Janeway didn't want to bring the subject up, now or ever...

"It is my belief that the Kazon are mustering the forces of more than one sect. There are more ships following us than are known to be under Culluh's direct control. They may sense an opportunity, as they know Voyager was damaged in the battle. And if Seska survived, she will have informed them that the captain and first officer are at the very least partially incapacitated, and possibly dead. We are in greater danger now than we have been since we first encountered this species."

"Tomorrow we die," Chakotay muttered under his breath.

"Possibly we shall."

Oh, damn that Vulcan hearing, Chakotay thought. Damn that Vulcan and his calm.

"But I submit to you that a declaration at any time would be highly inappropriate. The problems of protocol and the questions of illegitimate grounds for command decisions would be insurmountable."

"What's the matter, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked with quiet venom. "Don't you trust her? She's not a Vulcan, but you've stuck with her all this time--"

"Janeway is my captain. You, on the other hand--"

"Now we get to the real point, don't we? What am I?"

Tuvok had almost a smile. "A defector from Starfleet. A Maquis terrorist. An emotional Human with a lack of self-control in certain areas, and whose judgment in those areas can be called into question. A first officer who keeps order among his unruly former crew with the threat of physical violence."

"Go on."

"A commander who became involved with a person under his command..."

"...and who stopped it because he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. A mistake that's nearly cost him everything." Chakotay stared at the table top, a shaking hand over his face.

"I am certain that you take my meaning, Commander."

"You've made me speak it for you. Damn you." His head dropped low.

"When a logical sequence of reasoning has arrived at its conclusion, the result is clear and inevitable to all who have followed the argument."

"Yes." He could only whisper.

Tuvok nodded with an air of satisfaction that set Chakotay's teeth clenching. "I will return to the bridge and relieve Captain Janeway, as it is my impression that she would prefer to attend the dinner."

"It's safe now," Chakotay said with bitter humor. "You've made sure of that." Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow, and turned to go. "Just a damn minute, Lieutenant."

"Sir?"

"You're right. I'm not going to say a word, and I'm better off if she doesn't either. It's no good for her, and worse for me. Maybe I couldn't handle it well. Either I'd fight her decisions harder to prove I wasn't under her thumb, or I'd just...drown in her. I can't be her...pet. I'm her first officer. She needs me as an officer--"

"I am gratified that you have come to realize that."

"But I won't let you think that what I feel for her is something disgraceful. Or what she feels for me, and I know she does feel it, though perhaps not to the extent that I do."

Tuvok was unreadable, neither tense nor relaxed. Chakotay began to speak softly, with a careful edge, finding his words somewhere beyond his anger.

"You think this is a danger to her, and to the ship. I know your point, and from what you think of me, it's justified. You want us to remain separate and circle in our own orbits, keep the cycles going without disturbance. The mere fact that I came in on my path has perturbed everything in your system. You thought I was only a wanderer who would move on, and instead I was captured by chance, and by her influence. So now you want me to fall into the orbit that you've defined for me, if you can't have that position for yourself. But I can't follow your path. It's not my nature to walk anyone else's road." He traced a figure on the table top before him, two overlapping circles and a line. Tuvok was watching him. "And there isn't a damn thing you can do about this anyway. No matter what we say to each other or what happens in future, we're bonded for life. It's already happened. The best things about Humans are their capacities to connect with one another," Chakotay said, and looked the Vulcan in the eye. "We don't have the ability to look into each other's minds. We can only grope in the darkness, but we find each other anyway. We can know each other on levels that you never bother with, that you don't even dream about, because you probably don't even dream. I've seen my dreams-- I can't break that connection with her, even if I wanted to."

Tuvok had lost his infuriating smugness, and was frowning. Chakotay felt a surge of despondent anger, his bitterness at concession getting the better of him. The liquor roiled in his head. "Rest easy, Tuvok," he growled, "because you've just destroyed any hope I've got, and hers along with it. You can't have her, and no one on this ship can, and that's just the way you want it, isn't it? You can keep her locked away and off limits to everyone, and keep your blasted Vulcan virtue, your Starfleet protocol, and her as some kind of icon to it. But she's not yours. You don't own her soul. She can guard it by herself, no matter how you try to be her watch-dog. Seska couldn't break her, and no one ever will. Certainly not me, though she's given me a kind of strength I never knew I could have. I'll try to emulate her example now, but it's because of her, not because of you. I--don't--give--a--DAMN what you think, or what your concerns are. You can go straight to hell, and slam the door behind you!"

Tuvok's jaw muscles were clenching, but his features were stiff. Gods, an angry Vulcan. Quite an accomplishment, Commander. Proud of yourself?

He remembered the invasion of the mindmeld, which had probably saved Janeway's life, and knew he would do it again a thousand times for her. And the small part of himself that he had gained from the Vulcan, that had exchanged with a fraction of his own essence, spoke a cool logic to him. He's concerned for her. He wants her to remain his focused, brilliant, decisive captain. As do you. You don't want yourself as a millstone around her neck. She is your leader, and you will carry out her wishes, and execute her orders, and trust in her judgment. As long as it doesn't clash with mine, Chakotay thought wryly. Then I'll give her every argument I've got, and we'll come to some agreement in the ready room, and emerge united for the benefit of the crew. The good of the crew. You don't want her putting any one officer above the ship as a whole, not even the first officer. As if that could ever happen...

"Trust her, Tuvok," he said softly. "She'll do the right thing. Haven't you known her long enough? Much longer than I have, and she doesn't hide her light under a bushel. She's Kathryn Janeway, the captain of the Federation starship Voyager, and she does her duty."

Tuvok looked at him, and the shell was so thick over him it was as if it had never been breached. That suggestion Chakotay had felt when the barrier had been deliberately lowered, the unformed yearning--had he even read that correctly? So quick, so odd, so alien. This man was not Human, but he was a living being. The feelings dwelt deep, a current rich and strange. He wished there was some way to let Tuvok know that he valued that glimpse without causing further withdrawal. Some things were better left unsaid.

"It's the whiskey talking, Lieutenant," he said, and felt its influence evaporating. "It's not too logical to poison one's judgment. I'm a fool, but I'm only Human." He glanced in the direction of the dining room. "I'd better get back in there, or poor Kim will think he's lost all the senior officers."

"You are far from being a fool, Commander. Captain Janeway chose you as her first officer, and her judgment is unimpaired."

Tuvok turned and left, leaving Chakotay staring after him, leaning on the table, alone. You never could tell with Vulcans. He rose and returned to the dining room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

HIS HANDS, gentle and firm, brown against her bare skin. Tracing the contours of her breasts, the fingers circling and cupping, lifting the soft weight and running his thumbs over her nipples...his lips pressing her throat, making their slow way downwards...her own hands in his cropped hair--what would that feel like? He might groan against her neck, lower her to the bed, strip off his own clothing and lie down with her, warm and hard...roll himself under her, seize her hips, and--

"CAPTAIN, I AM HERE to take the bridge." Janeway was seated in the command chair, wearing a blue dress, her mind engaged so deeply that Tuvok's voice startled her.

"But Lieutenant, you were there hardly half an hour." She turned and let the illusions flee.

"I have paid my respects to Commander Chakotay and the crew, and this event is in your honor, Captain. It is proper that you should attend it." Tuvok seemed to be searching for something in her face. Janeway smiled at him and nodded in assent. The music had changed to a tune her mother had liked to sing around the house. She rose and walked to the turbolift, and turned up the speaker so that she would not miss a note.

The second shift of crewmembers was arriving and others departing, and she spent some time greeting the new arrivals in the corridor. The music played as she shook hands and called her people by name. Torres departed for Engineering. Kim was managing a passable imitation of a tin whistle in the upper registers of his alien instrument. Janeway had thought he was just making conversation when asking her about her musical tastes, but he had apparently been taking notes. He certainly knew how to get on her good side.

When there was a lull, she slipped in again and went to congratulate the players. The conversation was loud again, happy and raucous.

"Ensign--I had no idea you were such an accomplished entertainer," she said to Kim.

"My parents always made me play for family events," he said with a grin. "We used to have great reunions--"

"Paws off, loser!" came a woman's shrill voice, slicing through the general noise. Henley, landing a good whack to Dalby's face. A security guard separated them and spoke earnestly to both. Chakotay moved through the crowd, which was already losing interest, and escorted Dalby to the door. Henley was laughing, sitting down and draining a glass. Janeway saw bottles standing on a number of tables. An unofficial contribution to the festivities? Kim looked shocked. Chakotay came over and spoke to Janeway, stiffly.

"A misunderstanding. Dalby's drunk, and fell down on her lap when he tried to get up. She's a little the worse for liquor as well, and overreacted."

"On synthehol?" asked Kim, his eyes bulging.

"Not exactly," replied Chakotay, pulling at his ear. He glanced at Janeway sideways, another of his characteristic looks, and folded his arms. His manner was peculiar, a mix of formality and restlessness, very different from his behavior at the start of the evening.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, nodding at the bottles. "It looks home-brewed."

"Ah...it's actually not too bad, Captain, but don't ask what it was made from." She could smell it on his breath, rather strongly.

"I see you've had a sample, Commander," she replied. He wasn't in the habit of indulging--was this why he seemed uneasy?

"We should encourage individual initiative into creative channels," he said with Tuvok's intonation. And laughed, a little too harshly. Janeway smiled in puzzlement and put a hand on his arm. Something in his eyes, fire glinting through concealment, until it was washed over and quenched.

"Play some more!" someone shouted to Kim. "Do you take requests?" A gale of happy laughter.

"Geez, guys, we're kinda tired--give us a chance to get our breath," Kim said.

"Lend me that guitar," said a bearded officer to one of the other musicians. He began to strum and sing, and some of the crew moved to hear him, while others returned to the replenished buffet and conversed at the tables. Janeway and Chakotay stood together an arm's reach apart, listening to folk songs and sea chanteys as one person and then another took up the thread. One of the Native American Maquis left and returned with a skin drum and sticks.

Songs of sailing, of returning home, of loved ones waiting. The tone changed, ebbed and flowed, but came always to those themes again. Carey stood and sang in a rich baritone with a melancholy edge.

...The night being dark and stormy, and loud the waves did roar,

Our captain cried, "Hold off, my boys, our vessel's going ashore."

Our captain cried, "Hold off, my boys, to deck you one and all,"

And I rued the day I sailed away from the hills of Donegal.

Here's farewell unto Castle Rock, and likewise unto Downhill,

And to that spot where we sailed by, they call it sweet Moville,

From sweet Culmore to that foreign shore where waves do rise and fall,

Adieu, adieu, to my wee lass on the hills of Donegal.

Silence when he ended, the whole room having grown quiet to listen. A core of longing in Janeway's breast, a memory of closeness, of home. A haven to gain, a hand to hold and a breast on which to lean. Chakotay's eyes were closed, and he bowed his head. Another person stood--the young curly-headed lieutenant Janeway had spoken with earlier. Her voice was shaky, perhaps with emotion, but strengthened as others took up the beautiful tune.

As long as deep within the heart

The soul of Judea lies turbulent and strong,

As long as to the East, forwardly,

The eye toward Zion constantly is turned,

Then our hope it is not dead,

The ancient longing will be fulfilled,

To return to the land, the land of ourfathers,

The city of Jerusalem, where David encamped.

Another pause at the conclusion, and then the low beat of the drum. Three Maquis sat on the floor, placing it between them, and Chakotay joined them, taking a stick and strengthening the rhythm. He started the chant, apparently his prerogative, and soon the voices throbbed in unison with the drum. The words were simple and repeated many times, but the rise and fall of pitch and the steady pulse were the essence of the sound. More like a ceremonial prayer than a song, and perhaps that was what it was. A prayer for homeland, but also for the souls that inhabited it. A home in the heart, and in the hearts of others. Perhaps Voyager's crew would never get home--Janeway allowed herself that small moment of doubt--but if they could forge the connections of home between them, create an abode from the people around them, they might come to rest at last.

At rest. A great silent earthquake shook her, and she knew, however far her travels led, she would find no rest in life except within an easy arm's reach.

Chakotay was absorbed in his task, his clear tenor accompanying the drum, echoed by the others. If she said to him, "My home is with you," how would he react? It might be unexpected, but there was no way to prepare him. If he had not seen the turn of her mind, had enforced a willed blindness on himself, then she could do nothing but say the words to him. At the proper time. She closed her eyes and let the drum fill her thoughts.

"OH, NO, I'm a terrible dancer. I have no desire to make a fool of myself."

"You're the captain. It's your privilege to make a fool of yourself in front of the crew. But I'll refuse for both of us."

"And disappoint Mr. Kim and all those eager faces? Whose idea was this, anyway?"

"He said you liked waltzes, and I said his group should play some, and then someone started clearing tables away to make a dance floor. Then Neelix started nudging me over to get you to lead it off with me. They're all waiting--I'll just say you're too tired." Chakotay turned away abruptly.

"Now hold on there, Mister. I didn't say I was tired. I do like waltzes. I just don't usually dance to them in public. But I'll rise to the challenge."

A very slow smile crept over his face, and he offered his arm. "Just one, Captain. That should satisfy them."

They walked to the cleared area, to the sound of applause, and Janeway stood a little stiffly as Chakotay put one hand on her waist. She touched his shoulder lightly, and they clasped hands and waited. "I did take lessons, you know. My mother thought it was important for social reasons. I never could stay in time."

"Count the beats--"

Kim gestured, and the quintet began. A beautiful old Irish tune-- the guitarist standing in for the harp.

"Oh, don't give me the 'count the beats' lecture--where did you learn this, anyway?"

Chakotay swept her around in a confident arc.

"I always liked to dance. Not this way at home, of course. But at the Academy, this was the kind that the women liked..."

Janeway had to drop her gaze. Years ago, those dimples might have been more casually displayed, the big frame more sparely muscled, the hair black without any mixture of grey. Would that same calm warmth have shone in his eyes for her?

Half-embraced, they circled the floor, the watchers smiling and swaying to the music. Neelix reached out for Kes and drew her closer. Janeway grew aware that some crewmembers were exchanging knowing glances, but that there was no more than happy surprise in most of them, and in some, a nodding confirmation. The curly-headed lieutenant whispered to Benow, and Janeway could see them clasp hands for a moment, their eyes shining at her. Chakotay looked once again as he had in the corridor, his lips parted, his eyes warm, but with a touch of sadness and resignation as he smiled. He seemed to push that consciously away, and held her closer as they danced. A few more couples moved out on the floor after several minutes, and she began to edge over to the side to escape. Before she stepped on his foot, or threw his stride off too much, or simply lost all sense of the music in her thoughts of his touch. She felt even clumsier than usual.

"Captain, you're leading."

"I never could help doing that, Commander. I'd really rather not continue this any longer than necessary."

"Just until the tune is over."

"All right. I'm only afraid I'm going to make a mess of things."

"You're doing fine." He smiled whimsically at her.

They danced that tune, and the next, another harp piece with a sweet yearning tone and rippling melody. Round and round, the epicycles of their path spiraling in the circle defined by the crew. When the third tune started, Janeway was thoroughly out of breath, and was surprised that Chakotay continued to dance, cutting smaller figures in the center of the floor to accommodate her slowed steps.

"I really--have to rest. Aren't you tired?"

"Not tonight."

"Well, I need a break." He seemed disappointed, but she threw him a pleading look and he ducked his head in assent. The floor was becoming crowded, and it took a few moments for him to navigate between the enthusiastic waltzers. "I'm sure you can find plenty of partners. You must be one of the best dancers here." They disengaged and stood between the tables.

"No, I won't dance any more tonight," he said, and moved his eyes away from her face. Janeway trembled inwardly, but kept her expression firm.

"I insist. I delegate all my duties in this respect to you. It's getting late, and I'm going to retire gracefully. Good night."

"Good night, Captain," he replied. Janeway went to shake a few more hands and slip away. Neelix heaped her arms with pastries from the remains of the buffet, smiling when he brought out a whole apple tart to present to her. When she looked back, Chakotay was dancing with Lieutenant Benow, her small tawny head tilted up to him.

"OFFICER'S QUARTERS," Chakotay said, and slumped against the wall of the turbolift when the doors closed on him. He'd left Neelix and Kim cleaning up, and Carey following Torres around like a puppy, coming out of his drunk and sniffling. Dalby had crept back in and was passed out under a table with Henley snoring beside him, and Chakotay was fairly sure Jenny Delaney had left at the same time as Tom Paris and with the same destination. Yes, he thought, that was a damn good party. Maybe the last one we'll have. Tuvok had informed him from the bridge that two more Kazon vessels were paralleling Voyager's course to starboard.

After hours, or the calm before the battle. Torres was heading to Engineering, every shift was on standby, and only four people were drunk enough to need a remedy from Sickbay. He was going to collapse for a while, maybe sleep, maybe not. The whiskey was only a bad taste in his mouth now and his head throbbed. But although he was still somewhat weak from his injuries, his energy burned hot in him, resisting his efforts to conserve it. Gods knew what he was going to have to prepare for in the next few hours. Chakotay chuckled sardonically and headed down the corridor to his quarters.

After showering and brushing his teeth, he took a long drink of water and felt a little better. He'd abstained more or less strictly for years, but this had been an occasion for cutting loose. Would he ever get another chance? Seven Kazon on their tail, gnawing at their flanks. Although he was tired, his mind was fully alert and restless, his senses sharply heightened. No, he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight, but he had slept in late this morning and thrown his internal cycles off anyway. He decided to dress again just in case of trouble; something was prickling his intuition again, though fear wasn't the word for it. Imminence, perhaps.

Chakotay sat at his desk and turned his monitor on. Reports? Or a book to read. He was off duty, for now, and he might as well enjoy it while he could. He found a text on Humanoid burial practices and began to download it, then hit the abort key and smiled at himself. Why not try something a little out of his usual realm?

"The Baroque Concerto: An Examination of Folk Dance Sources in the Court Music of the Seventeenth Century." Sounded like a tough nut, but he needed one to chew on right now. Janeway would be right next door, probably having already undressed for bed-- Chakotay grimaced sharply and put a hand over his face. Damn. Not a thought he wanted to pursue. He stood and crossed to the viewport, looking out at the long diffused streaks of starlight. Was she doing the same, right next door? Could they share their view of the stars, ever, or would they move forever in concentric circles, always in parallel, never meeting?

This isn't your call, he reminded himself. Tuvok, damn him, knows her better by many years, and she wouldn't compromise her duty for anyone, not him, not you, never. Don't sit here and make it worse all by yourself. Maybe he shouldn't sit and read just now. Something more physical, like a holoprogram.

"Computer, is the holodeck in use?"

"NEGATIVE, BUT IT IS RESERVED UNTIL 0800."

"All night? Great," he muttered. "So who's checked it out and not even turned it on?"

"Janeway to Chakotay."

For a moment he didn't register that the computer was no longer speaking to him. A controlled female voice, but one filled with sweet warmth. He thought he might melt down on the spot when he realized who it was.

"...Chakotay?"

"I'm here."

"I...I'm in need of a talk. I think you are too. Care to go for a walk?"

"Captain?"

"I'm right outside your door."

He shot to open it, and there she was. Hair loosened, though not let down, and wearing something soft, leggings and long tunic. The lights were dimmed for the night cycle, and faint gleams dwelt on her hair and in her eyes.

"I do this late at night sometimes," she said, and smiled whimsically at him. "It helps me think."

Chakotay was not thinking at all clearly, but he stepped out and closed his door. "Where to?"

"Everywhere. Let's tour the ship."

He walked beside her, neither of them saying much, while she led him to the dining hall, empty and dark. Janeway peered in and smiled, and went on. Corridor after corridor, as if she were inspecting every bulkhead with him at her side, looking at every centimeter of her realm through new eyes. In Engineering, Torres blinked at them, and Bendera shot Chakotay a thumbs-up, which he ignored. Jonas sidled past with a crooked smile.

The great column of the warp core, energy in shifting colors and patterns, liquid fire reflecting on Janeway's face and in her eyes. She leaned on the rail, watching it for several minutes, and Chakotay watched her. The power under her hand, the lives on her shoulders. Some of that burden his, as much as she would let him carry for her. The pit of his stomach ached with the sight of her. He could have no more share of her than any of the crew received, and she could not give him more than a fraction of what he wished he had. She had given him too much already, and he prepared himself to be told that. But she said nothing still, just watched and walked slowly, circling the core, and he followed.

"Let's go back up," she said, and they took a turbolift to Deck Six. Janeway walked even more slowly here, and spoke for a moment to three maintenance techs who were replacing conduits behind a wall panel. One of them glanced at Chakotay with a scowl and meaningfully at the others, one of whom shrugged slightly. Chakotay dropped his eyes and grimaced. As they walked on, he fell farther and farther behind Janeway, slowly as she went, and finally stopped altogether. He was beginning to feel like a dog trailing along at her heels. She looked back at him leaning against the wall, his arms folded, and retraced her steps. "Come on," she said. "We're nearly there."

"Where?" he asked, looked up, and saw the door of the holodeck.

Janeway opened it and waited, and he walked up to her side and looked in. The bright grid of the emitters lit up the room, as there was no program running. "I thought this might be a good place to talk." She looked up at him with a question. "But we could go to the airponics bay, or back to the dining hall."

Chakotay stared into the room, his face working.

"Perhaps the airponics bay, then," Janeway said softly, and began to close the door. He made a gesture in her direction, but did not touch her, and she halted. He stepped inside first and she followed him inside the room, and the door shut, the neutral emitters bright and impersonal, outlining a potential space. Janeway walked a few steps beyond him and stopped.

"Please, Chakotay," she said with her lilting pronunciation, that made something cherished from his name. "Will you choose the program for us?"

He cleared his throat, bowed his head for a moment, and said a prayer to himself, asking for the strength he knew he was going to need. "Computer, run program: Chakotay, Delta Four." The emitters dimmed, the walls fell away into distance, the hills rose on the horizon.

And the violet-leaved trees sprang up all around them, silently.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

HE STOOD JUST BEHIND HER, on her right side, and she could not see his face. But his presence wrapped around her, the sound of his breathing, and her awareness of him was like a beam of sunlight on her back, warm, and growing warmer. The emerald lake rippled before them, nestled in the pale hills, circled with the violet trees. Janeway felt a little dizzy with the scent of flowers, and with the memory the scent brought back so strongly. Chakotay was close enough to touch, if she turned, and she caught a hint of him, part of her awareness and even more evocative than the flowers. She took a deep breath and let her head roll back, her loosened hair nudging her shoulders. Oh, the precious knowledge of his life, linked to hers. He knew that as well as she, but he did not know how she felt about it, or what she intended to do. Until this night, she had not known either. In the sight of her crew, she had realized what really held Voyager together, and the potential of the bonds she could not afford to ignore.

If this was their last opportunity to speak before the Kazon closed in, it was also their first, in a way. Each of them knew the full implications of what might be said here, and there would be no accident, no buried revelations, no substitution of one connection for another. Janeway turned to look at Chakotay, and he looked back, a little hooded, his eyes steady, but his defenses up. His courage touched her; he was ready for anything now, and with his choice of setting he had just given her the most direct challenge of their service together. Laid himself open for any blow, because he needed to have the truth, no matter what. How could she give it to him?

"Will you walk with me?" he asked, and turned along the lake shore. Janeway let him lead now, because this was his creation, his place, although he had made it for her and for the whole ship. Perhaps it would be best for her to wait for him to set the tone. Chakotay did not get far before stopping in the shade of a weeping tree like a willow, and Janeway ducked her head under the branches to stand beside him, and sat near the trunk when he hunkered on the grass. A twig between his fingers, and he stripped the bark and bent it in a circle, tying it idly, gazing at the sunlight on the water.

"You told me," she said in a near-whisper, "that this reminded you a little of where you grew up."

"A little." He smiled faintly at the circlet in his hands. "The berry bushes, that's all." He tossed the circlet with a snap of the wrist, and it landed in the water and bobbed, drifting. They watched it, and it soon washed ashore in the small ripples the breeze brushed across the lake.

"Tell me about your homeworld."

"That's more than one place."

"Earth?"

"That's my real home, when it comes right down to it. I'm Human, and my ancestors were bound very strongly to certain spots. We took some of that power with us when we left, but my father used to say that Earth would remember us when we returned."

"Did she remember?"

"Yes. She did." He looked up into the branches and suddenly grinned. "She wanted a piece of me, I think, because at least every other mosquito and stinging fly in the Amazon took out a good big chunk."

"A trip?"

"With my father. That was my first step on the land my people came from. I didn't know it at the time, but that was also what made me realize how precious my other home was to me, because I wanted to go back so badly. I thought I didn't want roots anywhere. I wanted to live in the stars."

"And now you do."

"Yes. My home is here with me." He twisted to look at her, then took a deep breath and dropped his eyes. After a long silence, Janeway realized that he was not going to say more, and wondered why. He was so tightly restrained, his surface cool, the fire glowing through only rarely. There was more here than uncertainty. Had he--oh, God, had he made some decision? Would she hear something she had never expected from him? Janeway trembled, and hugged her knees close to herself. They could talk around this all night. Would it be better to leave some words unsaid?

"You defended your home." She meant the colony on the Cardassian border, and his stint in the Maquis, but he seemed to take it differently.

"This was one fight I couldn't afford to lose. There's nowhere else to go now, for any of us."

"And if there were another home to go to, someday?"

"I'll defend this one until I die. No one is going to move me from where I make my stand." Chakotay's expression darkened, and he rose.

"Who would do that?"

He let out a short bark of a laugh. "Someone who'd like to make that stand himself--" He stopped and clamped his lips together.

"Chakotay?"

"You don't know, do you?" he asked, and studied her face. "No, you do, somehow, and it's all right. That must be it. You wouldn't think of it as anything disgraceful. That's not you." She watched anger smooth out of his face, and fall into resignation. "Never mind. Don't ask, because I won't answer. He's too proud, and so am I, and there's still a piece of him in my head. There are a lot of things he'll never let me say."

"Who will never let you say them? Are you talking about a person, or a moral principle?"

He startled her with a full-throated guffaw. "That's--a damn good question! He seems to have taken up residence like an extra conscience..."

"Chakotay, you seem to be taking some delight in confusing me."

"Sorry." He stopped laughing and shook his head with a smile. "I'd better drop the subject." The smile turned grim, and he pulled his cheeks in for a moment, resigned again. "I'd better drop every subject, because it's your turn. What do you have to say to me, Captain? Let's hear it. I can't rest until this is closed." He raised one hand to touch the curtain of violet leaves, then dropped it abruptly.

"I'll tell you, then." Janeway rose as well. Chakotay turned his head halfway towards her, but stopped short of looking her in the face. His eyes were trained on the ground, motionless, though his features were twitching.

"Do you--oh, Chakotay, I want so much to make love with you," she whispered, and stepped in front of him where he must see her. His face did not change for a long moment, and then a puzzled frown creased his brow, as if he had not quite heard her and was trying to make out her meaning. Janeway put one hand on his cheek and the other on his chest, her gaze meeting his, her body going soft and warm as the slow realization burned into his expression. She felt the interrupted intake of breath, the slump of his shoulders in shock.

"No--" Chakotay said, and Janeway kissed him.

OH GODS. Her lips, her lips on his--oh gods, her fragrance...no. In a moment, in one moment more he would lose his grip, slip under. Drowning. His own panic was heavy as shackles.

Chakotay took Janeway by the shoulders and put her away from him with the greatest force he could muster, which wasn't much. He was going to faint if he touched her any longer--her shoulders were slim through her tunic, cool, but burning him like fire-- He stepped back, almost tripped over his own feet, his eyes shut tight. Not her face just now, not her eyes. He turned, and came up against the tree, and grabbed it for support, and let his eyes open again for equilibrium's sake. He thought his legs would lose all strength.

"Chakotay--" He pressed his forehead against the bark. Guts on fire. A supernova in his belly. "Please, Chakotay, let me tell you--"

She wanted to thank him. It was gratitude. She knew it would never work, but she would let him have her body once or twice, because he had saved her life. After putting it in danger in the first place. A gift of thanks, on the eve of battle, when tomorrow we might die-- Gods, didn't she realize? "No. Not for that," he whispered.

"Chakotay?"

"I--can't. It's...not like that. If I ever--if we--"

"Like that? How?" Her voice was soft and gentle, concerned. Concerned for her officer. A member of her crew, the crew she was devoted to. He couldn't let her.

"Not to thank me. Not to give us a good send-off to the fight. You might as well shoot me now."

"To thank you? I've already thanked you, Chakotay. You did your duty as a Starfleet officer, and as only you could have done it."

He could not answer. Janeway's voice went on, shaky and husky. "This is not about gratitude, and it's not temporary. How could you think I could ever make love with you and treat it as an indulgence?"

No ground beneath his feet. Dissolved, washed away, the deepest of cold waters closing over him. The soft cool arms dragging him under. What he would have lost his soul to have, here in this illusionary forest a few days ago, and for which he would have pulled Janeway into the dark depths with him. Chakotay turned and cried out desperately, fighting the tremendous blaze of emotion rising in him at her words.

"That's what I'm telling you! I won't ever be able to let go of you, no matter how bad the consequences are. It's wrong, and I won't let you make the same mistake I made!"

"Mistake...?" she said softly, her face pale when he met her eyes. "But we've each just said we want this more than anything..."

"I can break the rules, for you and for Voyager. I walk my own path. I'm not the captain. But you break them for me?" He had the strength to stand and face her now. "I can't let you."

She was shaking, her hands going to throat and chest, her color alarmingly white. "...Tuvok," she whispered, to his surprise.

"What?"

"Tuvok violated my principles to get the space-folder. At Sikarius. Because he knew I couldn't." She swallowed hard. "No matter how much I wanted to."

"You...wanted to break your own rules?"

"God!" she cried, and covered her face with her hands. "If only I could have! He did a terrible thing for my sake, and I punished him for it..."

Chakotay stared at her, her slender body trembling, head bowed. Gods, he thought, Tuvok destroyed himself for her, just the way I've done. And rebuilt himself without her help. I'm damned if a Vulcan is going to handle that better than I can... He knew suddenly that he was the master of his own soul, no matter the power of Janeway's gift. With her help or without it, he would carry his duty for the rest of his life. She looked up at him and saw his resolve, but reached out to him, almost touching him before he moved aside.

"You were right to push me away," he said hoarsely. "You were tempted to do something you knew wasn't proper, and the worst thing I ever did as a captain was to give in to that. I couldn't help myself, or I didn't want to, and I let a spy deceive me because I wanted someone to love me..."

"Chakotay..." Janeway reached out again and put her hand on his arm. "There's no reason to be ashamed of that."

"How can you say that after all we've been through? My wanting what I shouldn't have caused all this, and could have destroyed everything I value."

"That didn't happen. We won out, and we're alive and well."

"For now. The Kazon pack is chasing us, and this is my fault." He stepped back and spread his hands. "She was my fault. My mistake as a commander, and I was only the captain of an old clunker with defective engines and a lot of desperate people for a crew. You're the captain of Voyager. I never realized what that meant until I thought I might have to take over. There isn't any job more important in Starfleet, or to your crew. You're all there is for us, our last resort."

"And who is there for me?" she whispered. Her hands were out to him, pleading, her narrow palms upturned, her whole heart in her face. Chakotay shuddered with the effort not to embrace her, enfold her, stoop and sweep her up into his arms, give her every gift he held for her...

"You...you belong to this ship, not to me. It would destroy you to break your principles..."

"And you belong to this ship too," Janeway said, her beauty radiant, her voice husky. "You've just told me that. This is your home, and your people. Maybe the only one all of us will ever have again. How can we hold ourselves apart from each other?" He was silent, mesmerized. "We'd be lying to say we should, and would have to force ourselves to build walls between us. There's greater danger in barriers than there could be in any kind of bond. The bond is what will keep us alive. It's happening now--couldn't you feel it tonight?"

He felt her power and her eloquence, something overwhelming forming in his mind. The limitless universe--and the unbreakable ties against its dangers. Some dark shreds of fear still to burn away, to throw deliberately into the white furnace before he could embrace the light as his own... would it consume him itself? Was he proof against the full blaze of the sun?

Janeway was watching him, her eyes intent on his. "There's a change taking place, and this isn't just a ship and crew any more. They saw us together, and so many of them knew we were drawing closer, and they applauded it. It feels right to them. It's the logical result of the joining of the crews, and it can only strengthen that joining."

"Not all of them were applauding--"

"No. You'll never find perfect consensus. You can't wait for that in any course of action. You know that, Commander, since you've been a captain. Sometimes you simply have to lead the way and trust them to follow."

"I'm a defector. A contrary-- You have no idea how contrary I can be. I...I don't deserve this."

"Dear God. You didn't deserve to be treated like a piece of equipment, and worse. She couldn't see any of the best qualities in you. Only the surface, and hers is a lie. I won't lie about what I feel. How can anyone who is living a lie ever see clearly?" There were tears in her voice, and in her eyes, and the truth rang in them for him, forever.

This was her road, straight and clear before her, conviction and inclination pointing the same way. She was the guardian of her own soul, as he was of his...

"I think I can see now..." As if through her eyes, for a moment. Her head was down, her eyes closed, her hands holding her own arms. "...Thank you." At his words, she looked up, and nothing separated them. The conduit, the movement of one spirit to the other. No defenses left on either side. Janeway put out her hand, and Chakotay took it, and although he had full command of his strength, he fell to his knees before her.

HIS ARMS AROUND her waist. Her hands on his head. Bowed over him, her tears falling in his hair. A long time like that. A very long time. Forever, perhaps.

She tried to raise him up, finally, and he stood and enveloped her, embracing her slender body with his bulk. Cradled and supported, her face pressed to his chest. Chakotay stooped and put his arm under her knees, and swung her up to carry her. For a few steps, only one pair of footprints. Out of the holodeck, out of the world of illusion and into the solid corridor of her ship.

The turbolift hummed upwards, the two of them wrapped around each other, silent and still. She led him out and to her door, and was swept up again in her sitting room. Chakotay turned slowly with her in his arms, his face hidden against her throat, around and around in the gradual dance of inexpressible joy, their rhythm the harmony of their unspoken thoughts, singing together like harp and drum. In the bedroom, he put her down and lay with her, both still fully clothed, full- length on the bed. Just listening to the breath, finding the beat of the heart, the weight of his arm over her side, the pressure of his hand against her back. One leg thrown over hers, her arms around his neck. He pulled back, eventually, and looked into her face, and she had never seen his expression before. An echo of it, perhaps, when he had stroked a stray lock from her cheek, and when he had held her eyes as she sat chained in a small compartment. He kissed her, and the sum of her desire washed over her again, undiminished. With her now, with him at last. Chakotay turned and brought her under him, and lay between her thighs, their lips moving slowly, whispering against each other's mouths. She still had her shoes on. She never wore her shoes to bed. And his boots on her quilt-- Janeway covered his back with the gradual circles of her hands. The motion of their hips together, she lifting and cradling him, he rolling his pelvis in gentle surges. Their tongues slipped together, the soft sounds of parting and meeting. His penis was pressing firmly against her pubis, through the layers of clothes, and his weight was spreading her legs out to welcome him. The tunic unfastened down the back--oh, well. She reached down and stroked over his buttocks, pulling him against her, opening her lips to him. Melting, feeling her insides go liquid with heat. The pressure of his shaft--and the roll of his hips--she heaved under him, arched her torso and rolled her head back with a cry. His movements gained more purpose, pushing harder, and then he was kissing her jawline and throat, groaning, his arms scooping under her and lifting her closer. Janeway felt his urgency echo her own, wanting his skin under her hands, wanting his body inside hers.

They had trouble letting go of each other to unfasten their clothing. She sat up and felt his hands moving down her back, the air striking her skin as the tunic fell away, and she shrugged out of the sleeves and turned to him. Chakotay looked at her naked torso, reaching for her, holding and stroking, pressing one breast and then the other up to his lips as he crouched forward, kneeling on the bed. They fell backwards together, and he lay over her again, his hands sweeping over her, dragging her clothes over her hips with a noise of parting fabric. Janeway managed to kick her shoes off, and he rolled to the side to draw the leggings over her feet and push them away. She got the front of his jumpsuit open, and struggled with the fastening of his shirt while he shrugged off the shoulders of his uniform and wrestled it halfway down, then remembered his boots and yanked impatiently at them. Almost. Just the shirt, and her underwear--and she swept all the garments off the spread. Nude, his skin smooth and tan in the low light. Oh, he was beautiful. Kneeling on the bed before her as she reclined, his erection stiff, just for her. The other tattoos, blue on his stomach and hip, lines arcing across his broad body. Chakotay was staring at her, almost in disbelief. He moved forward and over her on hands and knees, stopped at her stomach, laid his face there and rolled it across the soft flesh, kissing the skin. But she was impatient, and she had waited so long for him that she pulled at his shoulders and brought him up to her immediately. He kissed her softly on the mouth, and she locked her legs over him, and the head of his penis stroked between the lips of her vulva. "Captain," he said, and she realized he had never really called her anything else, and she was smiling when he pressed forward, and inside her.

His body within hers. Joined, and moving deeper, withdrawing slightly, surging forward again, filling her. Chakotay poised still at the deepest point, resting on his hands, face intense and gentle, eyes closed. Every breath he took expanded his chest against her breasts. The very stillness, the quiet strength inside her, caused her to contract and grip him, feel the most subtle of changes. His breath, his pulse--and he withdrew again slowly, plunged back with a grimace, visibly trying to restrain himself. Holding still again. Janeway felt orgasm approaching, and concentrated on his face, on the feel of communion, holding him within her, rocking her pelvis slightly. It was like a luxurious stretch, a ripple of release throughout her. Her cry was long and quivering. Before it faded, Chakotay accelerated his movements and found a rhythm of smooth thrusting. Her wetness allowed him to move freely and vigorously. Lowering his weight onto her, embracing her hard and dropping his face into the hollow of her shoulder, he let his restraint go and made fierce love to her until she began to heave under him, moaning. Over the edge, so sudden he seemed taken by surprise. His arms contracted around her so tightly she could barely breathe. So deep. Janeway called out to him again, and Chakotay answered her, hoarse and loud.

They lay until long after the sweat cooled, each breathing into the other's mouth, kissing endlessly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MORNING ON VOYAGER did not come with a sunrise. Stars all around them, perpetually visible in the constant night, or the constant day, of space. No change from hour to hour, except for the lower lights in the corridors and the quieter activity of the night watches. No dawn in the literal sense; but in the minds of people used to the rhythms of planets far from here, this was a new day. A day lit with a universe of suns.

Chakotay was snoring, not very loudly. Janeway lay with her eyes still closed, listening to him with as much pleasure as she did to music. The bed was not really large enough for two to sleep comfortably, unless the two were embracing, side by side. That was fine with her. He took up a lot of room, but she had half her body lying over his, and had slept that way, hardly shifting for hours. Her left leg was a little numb below the thigh. When she moved it, her knee gave a pop, the way it always did on first stirring. Chakotay made a little sound in his throat, then took a hard sniffing breath through his nostrils. A quick waker. She tried to be, but lying and ruminating in the half-sleep of early morning was so luxurious... He moved and stretched, shifting her arm that lay over his chest, then scratched under his jaw, judging from the slight rasp and vibration. Janeway opened her eyes to the gentle illumination of the programmed time of day.

And to her lover's face. He was stretching again, one arm curled above his head, his chest arched up, his face in profile to her. The beauty of it struck her again as she watched his soft grimace of effort. Long heavy bones, a definite nose, but with a refinement and gentleness of feature and line, a warm glow of complexion; a happy combination. Above all, the expression of his spirit in every movement, the energy held below the quiet surface, the warmth of his humor and the fire of his courage. The spirit that had met hers as an equal, although their positions could never be on a level. One captain and one only, one first officer. The protocol of the two waking in the same bed was one that she would have to create from scratch, but she was going to be creating a lot of protocol from scratch out here. The Delta Quadrant was new, inescapably so. The roads and signposts were different, though Janeway would walk them always with her head held high as a Starfleet captain. With a navigator to help point the way, another pair of hands to build new roads.

Janeway turned to look out the viewport, the rainbow streaks of the spectral shift at warp blurring out each individual point of brightness. Tiny comets of essential color, the components of the light spread out, the elemental nature of the fire. The truth revealed in beauty.

There was a warm hand on her stomach, leisurely in its movements, examining the texture of her skin. It stroked the little line of hairs below her navel, slid across and cradled her belly, spread out and gently pressed her abdomen. Chakotay shifted and brought his body against her back, rubbed his nose against her shoulderblade and kissed it, then craned forward and placed another kiss on the angle of her jaw. She turned her face so that her lips came across his, and his hand moved up to her breasts as the good-morning slipped into the memories of the night. Janeway's turn to arch her spine and sigh a little, as his fingers cupped her and he rolled closer. Yes, she was definitely going to spend another portion of the morning in bed.

"APPLE TART makes a perfectly good breakfast," Janeway said, and took a pot of coffee out of the replicator.

"I suppose it does," Chakotay replied, eating a large wedge in two bites. "I guess it didn't get too stale sitting out all night." He glanced at the wall chronometer. "Damn, I'm due on the bridge in two minutes, and I have to go to my quarters to get a clean uniform."

"Oh, just wear what you've got on. I certainly wouldn't mind," she teased, swatting his bare shoulder as she passed.

"Sure, if you wear that dressing gown--" He reached for her and pulled her down on his lap, kissing her with his mouth full. Janeway tasted apples and herself, and was glad she hadn't rushed him this morning. Her body began to relax against his again, and Chakotay swallowed what he was chewing and embraced her.

"Watch out, this pot is hot--" Janeway could not quite reach the table to set it down, and he took it from her and put in a safe place. Returning his hand to her waist, he stroked the silky fabric of her wrap. The passion was undiminished with fulfillment; Chakotay was trembling as he kissed her, Janeway was recalling what she had felt only a few minutes before and moving her bottom over his lap, parting her still-damp thighs. They indulged themselves for a few moments more, then Chakotay reluctantly pulled back and looked at her.

"No time. Someone has to go take charge. And if there were time--"

"We should spend at least a little of it talking," Janeway said. "I know." She leaned her forehead against his and took a deep breath, her eyes closed. Their lips met again, slowly and tenderly; she was reminded of the first moment they had kissed.

"Goodbye," Chakotay said, rose, yanked on his jumpsuit without putting on his shirt first, poured himself a cup of coffee and drained it, kissed her once more, and was gone. Janeway drank her own cup slowly, seated at the dining table, and watched the passing stars.

HE WAS A BIT out of breath, having had no time even to shower, and was seven minutes late for duty, a fact he knew Tuvok would have noted. Chakotay could not see the Vulcan's face, but felt his eyes from behind, and shifted in the command chair with some self-consciousness. Could Tuvok tell? If he came any closer--Vulcan senses were very sharp, and Janeway's scent hung around him like an aura. He could smell her even now, her warmth and faint spiciness blending with his own perspiration all over the surface of his skin. Even if he had had time to wash, he might have skipped that this morning. The sunlight blazed within him, the warmth lifted his heart and filled his lungs so that he felt no desire for oxygen. She could sustain him for the rest of his life, the only nourishment he would ever need.

Chakotay closed his eyes for a moment and thought of his captain's face, flushed, beautiful, her hair strewn around her, her lips open as she sighed in long liquid draughts. And she was all heat against his mouth, fragrant heat, her warm fingers running over his head. A little later, her hair brushing his face as she leaned down, her weight on him, he lifting her easily in the slow rhythmic surge like oceans. The water of life, that had closed over his head, but had not drowned him. His fire unquenched. How could he have feared her? What would he ever have to fear again?

"Commander," said Tuvok, "There are two Kazon ships approaching to port, just within range of our sensors."

"You don't say," replied Chakotay. "What's their trajectory?"

"Intercept, Commander," said Paris. "Within forty minutes."

"Damn. This is it, then."

"In all probability. Shall I inform the captain?"

"Well, I hate to interrupt her breakfast, but I'd say this definitely calls for it--"

Paris turned around with a speculative grin. "Interrupt her breakfast?"

"She...the captain usually eats breakfast at this time of day," said Chakotay, and smiled blandly. "She likes a regular schedule. Any change in the courses of our escort squad, Lieutenant?"

Paris wheeled back to his console. "Ah...yes, sir. The pairs to starboard and above us have turned to intercept." His fingers darted over the display. "The three behind us are still coming straight ahead."

"And now two more to port. Keep your eye peeled for any more approaching from below or along our course. Mr. Paris, alter course to one-forty-five mark six, and increase speed to warp seven." He sat up straight, then rose to look over the pilot's shoulder. "Report any changes in the Kazon's course as it occurs."

"All ships are accelerating, and turning to a new heading to maintain relative position, Commander," said Tuvok. Chakotay took a deep breath and touched his com badge.

"Bridge to Janeway." There was a pause before she answered, and her voice was sweet and husky.

"Janeway here, Commander. What can I do for you?" Chakotay felt his lips smile helplessly as he replied.

"I...ah, Captain, we have a new visitor. Two Kazon, still distant, but heading straight for us. Everyone in our escort's taken their cue." He tried to keep his voice crisp, but Paris turned just then, about to add something, and stopped, mouth open and eyebrows raised. Oh, damn. Was he ever going to have a prayer of keeping this a secret?

"I see," replied Janeway thoughtfully. "Culluh must be calling in every favor he's owed, or promising a great deal. He keeps a grudge a long time."

"I'm nursing something of a grudge against him myself," said Chakotay. "But there have been Kazon trailing us for days. These are the first that have really made an aggressive move."

"Something's different now. Perhaps he's located his personal transport--"

"Or its remains," said Chakotay, and he was no longer smiling.

"I'll be on the bridge shortly, Commander. Janeway out."

"Uhh...Commander," said Paris. "The three behind have accelerated to warp eight."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Chakotay tightly, and sat back to wait for the captain.

Sleek and tidy, her hair freshly pinned, her uniform faultless. Not to touch her seemed monstrous, unnatural, especially when she smiled with sweet warmth as she took her seat, responding, it seemed, to the heat his body had left for hers. Chakotay concentrated on her collar pips instead of her eyes as he gave his report, conscious of Tuvok's gaze, and of the seemingly casual glances Paris directed over his shoulder.

"At current relative speeds, Captain, the three directly aft will overtake us in forty minutes," he said. "The others will get here a lot sooner than that."

"Deep scan, Mr. Tuvok. Are there any other ships in the area?" Janeway glanced at the PADD Chakotay handed her and gave it back.

"Scanning. None aft, or below--"

"There have to be more," said Chakotay. "The box is missing one side, and the bottom."

"Two ahead."

"There's your missing side," said Janeway grimly. "Tactical display to main viewer." The screen showed a schematic view of Voyager, centered in a gridded sphere. Five converging sets of ships drew steadily closer, red symbols on the black background.

"I get the feeling this has been carefully planned." Janeway looked at Chakotay. "Red Alert, Commander."

"Shields up. Battle stations." He saw the light change on her face, and the glow of her monitor threw her cheekbones into high relief.

"It would seem our options are narrowing. Janeway to Engineering."

"Torres here."

"Lieutenant, we need a good burst of speed. Can the engines handle it?"

"I wish you hadn't asked me that just now, Captain."

"B'Elanna?"

"The damage to the port nacelle from our battle with Culluh has been repaired, but there are a lot of subsystem instabilities we've been trying to track down. I wrote a report on that two days ago--"

"Yes, but you said it wouldn't affect the ability to achieve high warp factors."

"It doesn't. But I was just running another set of diagnostics, in between crawling through the Jeffries tubes with my toolbox, and it won't be safe to maintain above warp seven for more than thirty minutes. I--I'm sorry, Captain, but there has been enough stress on the drive and the whole power conduit system, and so many jury-rigged bypasses and deferred maintenance all around the ship, that the odds of blowing something critical are getting pretty high."

"B'Elanna, I'm counting on you to reduce those odds. Janeway out. Warp nine, Mr. Paris. Get us out of this box."

"Aye, Captain. Course laid in."

"Engage." The display shifted by ninety degrees as Voyager went into a nosedive.

"At this speed, Captain, the sensors will not give us as much warning of obstacles ahead," said Tuvok.

"Enough warning for Mr. Paris, I'm sure."

"You got it, Captain." Janeway nodded at the pilot, and sprang up to look at Tuvok's console.

"They're all accelerating, but they can't match our speed. We'll lose them in half an hour if we can keep our pace."

"Why did they try this in the first place?" Chakotay said. "They know that we're faster."

"We're not faster indefinitely." She glanced at him. "The Kazon know we've suffered damage recently. They've probably gained a great deal of knowledge about Voyager's workings from Seska, and they may have been waiting for us to weaken for a long time. And now the incident at the planet to set them off--but they didn't come after us right away. This has been laid out very carefully."

"Doesn't seem characteristic of the Kazon, somehow."

"No, Commander, it is not," said Tuvok. "This is a classic Cardassian envelopment and redirection technique. It is known as jal- gurak, and was employed to some extent in their war with the Federation, until they developed more powerful battleships that could contend with Galaxy-class vessels. It is a tactic that neutralizes the superior speed and firepower of a single vessel in enemy territory, or of a small group in convoy."

"Cardassian," said Janeway.

"Yes, Captain."

"What's their next move, if they follow the pattern?"

"The aim is to direct us along a course of their choosing, and either into ambush by a large force or into an obstacle such as a nebula or solar system that will provide them with the means to confuse our sensors."

"Keep scanning," said Janeway. "Mr. Kim--I want any unusual celestial objects reported immediately. And, Mr. Paris--keep your eyes open for anything that looks like a cloaked ship up ahead. What's the position of the Kazon now?"

"They are falling astern, but are still well within sensor range." The display on the viewscreen confirmed Tuvok's statement.

"Could this have anything to do with our Kazon prisoner?" Janeway mused.

Chakotay shook his head. "I don't think they would go to any trouble to rescue him, if they even know we have him. At least you persuaded this one he wasn't going to be tortured or interrogated, and he's still alive. Though I don't know if handing him back to his friends will do him any good."

"You may have a point there, Commander. We'll have to drop him off in neutral territory."

"What will we do with the ones who committed suicide in our custody? They may be Kazon--"

"But you'd like their people to deal with the bodies in their way. I agree. Though I don't know if returned prisoners get any consideration dead or alive."

"We're getting something of a lead now, Captain." Chakotay gestured to the viewscreen.

"Mr. Paris. Can you change course yet?"

"In a few minutes, Captain. Then I'll have enough leeway to avoid coming within weapons range when I turn."

"They couldn't have hoped to keep us on one course very long. This has to come up soon, whatever it is--"

"Captain, there is a trinary system directly ahead," said Kim. "One red supergiant star and two giant blue-white stars. The charged gas spirals from all three create a huge area of corona around them--there could be anything hiding in there."

"There we go. There's the ambush. Mr. Paris, can you plot a course to give a wide berth to that system?"

"Yes, Captain, but that will bring us in range of one of the pairs, no matter which way we turn to avoid the stars."

"Better two than Lord knows how many. Plot a course and engage."

"Aye, Captain."

"Now's about the time I'd appreciate having a mysterious alien super weapon," said Chakotay. Janeway laughed, and he smiled puckishly. "It's too bad that was just a story." They looked at the viewscreen and grew sober again.

"The Kazon are moving to intercept--no, they've halted. There's a disturbance in subspace, traveling towards us from the direction of the system--I think it's a cloaked ship, or more than one."

"Engineering to bridge."

"Go ahead."

"We've got ten minutes of warp drive left, maximum. I'm reading a critical imbalance in the cooling mix in section eight. There's a blockage we have to clear, and we have to power down to do it. Running is not an option, Captain. Warp six is all I'll be able to give you, and they can beat that any day. And that's if you slow down now. Warp nine for even five more minutes is going to blow the damaged nacelle, and we'll be reduced to impulse until we can repair it."

"All stop, Mr. Paris."

"Captain?"

"If we've got to fight, I'd rather do it now while we still have some chance of maneuvering. B'Elanna, take the warp drive off line, and get cracking."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The subspace disturbance is approaching."

"On screen." Space--and a slowly emerging image of a huge beetle-like form.

"That's Culluh all right. He set this up for us," said Paris.

"I think he had some help," replied Janeway.

"She could have told him about Cardassian tactics at any time, Captain. He might be doing this on his own."

"That's possible, Commander. I'm not sure if it would be better if you're right." They looked at each other.

"Hail them, Mr. Kim."

"Hailing frequencies open, Captain."

"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager." There was a long pause, and the screen showed only the ship. Then Culluh's face appeared, sporting a smug smile.

"I am Culluh, First Maje of the Kazon-Nistrim."

"How pleasant to see you, Culluh. Get out of my way."

"We will finish our business here, Captain. Then we will depart."

"You have no business with us, Maje. But I do have something of yours to return." Janeway spoke to Chakotay. "Tell the doctor to ready those bodies for transport." He nodded. She turned to the viewscreen again. "I'm not interested in any transactions with you, Culluh. I'm going to eject a casing into space which you might want to pick up, and then I'm going to go. Move aside."

"You destroy a ship belonging to me, and an installation that has been of great usefulness, and you kill Kazon-Nistrim, and you say I have no business with you, Captain?" Culluh shouted. "I am going to punish you for that, Federations. I will seize your ship in compensation for mine, and I will kill ten of you for every warrior you have slain, and I will burn you alive, Captain. You will die in agony--"

"Where have I heard that one before? I'm sorry you lost your ship, Culluh. But we didn't destroy it, and we didn't kill any of your people. If you want compensation, you're knocking at the wrong door. There's a so-called friend of yours who has apparently been punished already--"

"Are you referring to me, Captain?" said a low, ironic voice, and a long slim arm clothed in greyish flexible armor draped around Culluh's neck. Janeway heard Chakotay's teeth click together, and her own hands clenched. She couldn't help crossing her arms protectively over her chest. Kattell leaned into the field of the viewscreen and whispered into Culluh's ear. Her hand wriggled up into his rat's nest of matted hair as he listened, and scratched in leisurely circles.

"Excellent, " he said when she drew back and smiled. "I will leave the deployment to you." Kattell turned to the viewscreen and looked at Janeway, her eyes half-hooded, then at Chakotay. Both of them gasped, for her skin was pearl grey, and hints of Cardassian cartilage mottled her forehead. Chakotay was standing a pace behind Janeway, and he took a stride forward and stood beside her. She could hear his breath hissing.

"Like the new face? Luckily I got some of the best equipment out before the base went up in smoke." Kattell smiled, the tiny scales that had replaced her eyebrows twitching with her amusement. "Hello, Chakotay. Seems both of us are blessed with luck." She dipped her head, her hair slithering over her eyes, glanced up teasingly, and slipped away.

"Mr. Kim, close the channel," Janeway managed to say. He complied instantly. She put a hand on Chakotay's arm, and he turned and looked at her.

"I had thought I hoped she wasn't dead," he said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"IT'S TIME for some good news about that warp drive," said Janeway over the comlink to Engineering.

"Fifteen minutes, Captain. Carey's in radiation gear and hanging by his toes recalibrating a whole row of coolant ducts, I've transported the blocked junction here and it's in pieces all over the consoles, and--"

"Don't talk to me, then. Janeway out." She looked at her first officer. "We've got to delay them. What's Seska up to?"

"Another one of her Obsidian Order parlor tricks, I suppose. And she learned a lot from B'Elanna about rigging things up from scraps. That anti-transport field she had, for instance. She didn't let me see any of that."

"They want Voyager in one piece. What would she do?"

"They've pinned us in place--"

"There is another Kazon vessel decloaking off the starboard beam, and one aft and below," said Tuvok.

"Three spread around us, and they were waiting. Mr. Paris, move us--"

"I'm reading an energy surge on all three, Captain," said Kim. A striated greenish beam shot out from Culluh's ship and washed Voyager, and was instantly joined by similar ones from the other two ships.

"Tractor beams! Mr. Paris, full impulse--"

"Aye, Captain!" Voyager rocked violently to port, and the bridge crew staggered, seizing railings and consoles. Chakotay gripped Janeway's shoulders and she his, and they braced each other as the ship bucked against the pull of the beams. A horrible groan began to rise from the deck plates, louder and louder.

"Structural integrity is threatened, Captain--"

"Can we break free, Mr. Paris?"

"Engines at full power, Captain. We're not moving." The groan was so loud she could barely hear the pilot shout.

"Hull breach imminent on Deck Ten--breach has occurred. We're open to vacuum, Captain!"

"All stop!"

"Engines all stop, aye, Captain." Voyager shuddered like a wounded animal and the groan trailed off, loud cracks detonating in the bulkheads as the panels and struts realigned.

"Repair crews, Deck Ten, and EVA team to the breach," barked Chakotay.

"That's not a Kazon tractor beam. Even with three, we should have been able to pull away. Damn her." Janeway nearly spat in fury.

"Phasers are locked on target, Captain."

"Try to knock out the beam generators, Tuvok."

"Firing phasers." The red light lanced out and wavered, dissipating before it reached its target.

"Tuvok!"

"Analyzing--"

"An anti-phaser field. Turnabout," growled Janeway.

"Can't say she doesn't learn from her mistakes," Chakotay replied.

"This is indeed a damping field, Captain."

"But that means they can't fire either."

"Captain, the Kazon vessels are powering up weapons."

"Or perhaps they can."

"If they modified the phase frequencies sufficiently, and tailored the field to those specifications, it would block only our weapons and not theirs."

"She learns very well from her mistakes. Tuvok, try another phaser frequency."

"Compensating."

"Fire!" The red beam dissipated once more, and a blue bolt shot out from one Kazon vessel, and then another. Voyager shuddered again, and Kim dodged a spray of sparks from his console.

"Captain, they're targeting the shields. Down by thirty percent." Another flash of blue, and another. "Fifty percent. Eighty percent."

"Photon torpedoes, fire!"

"Torpedo away. Hit on second ship. Their beam is no longer functioning."

"Casualties among EVA team, but breach has been sealed. Shields gone. We have no protection now."

"Kazon are locked on target, but have not fired."

"We are being hailed."

"Open a channel, Mr. Kim."

"I have you at my mercy, Captain. Fire again, and I will destroy you." Culluh's voice oozed triumph.

"The second ship has reactivated its tractor beam."

"Cease fire," said Janeway, with a deadly flatness in her tone. "Close the channel." She turned and looked at Chakotay.

"Now what? Ultimatum?"

"We'll be boarded."

"Very probably. Engineering, this is the captain. What's your ETA on the warp drive?"

"Ten minutes. There's quite a mess down here. And you have to get us free of the tractor beams before we can go to warp."

"What were you saying about an alien super weapon, Commander?"

"Bad joke. Sorry."

Janeway darted her eyes to his. "But do the Kazon know the punch line?"

"What?" Chakotay's brow creased.

"We've been in that base. They know we were at the planet for days. You said a lot of the base had been sealed and contained storage."

"Yes..."

"And Seska's found something there--"

"--that's allowed her to begin transforming herself back to herself." They looked at each other. "There must have been some incredible things--"

"So, we found something there too. Something that would do us some good here. Something that the Kazon would find plausible." She brandished a fist and pressed it to her lips.

"What would persuade them to drop the tractor beams?"

"Captain," shouted Torres over the com link, "tell them there's a carrier wave being fed into the tractor beams."

"Yes. That's it," said Janeway. "Something a Romulan ship tried once on a Federation vessel that had it in tow."

"Seska would have heard of that," said Chakotay. "She knows it's possible, and so perhaps Culluh does too."

"I'll take care of the rest, Captain. All I have to do is temporarily confuse their internal sensors. Tell them it will destabilize their warp cores. And tell her she's a-- well, never mind that." Torres laughed.

"B'Elanna, what would I do without you?" A bright hope in both their gazes, and faith in Chakotay's eyes as they met hers.

"Captain, we are being hailed."

"On screen, Mr. Kim."

Culluh, with Kattell smiling lazily beside him. "We have you, Captain. You are in the net, and helpless. Our boarding parties are making ready. I will enjoy watching you die."

Janeway took a deep breath, and looked at Chakotay's poker face. If she were to die today, it was a good day to die. And the worst day of all to die, with all her life before her. He smiled faintly, and she echoed it. To the Kazon she gave a slow defiant smirk, and then spoke to the Cardassian.

"You've outsmarted yourself this time, Seska. Leading us to an arsenal before attacking. Is it standard Obsidian Order procedure to equip your opponents with the best countermeasures available?"

Kattell stared contemptuously. "What are you babbling about?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Janeway out--"

"Just a minute, Harry," said Kattell. "Hold that channel open."

"I don't take orders from you," Kim snapped, and moved to cut the link. Janeway waved a hand.

"No, Ensign, that's all right. We'll let her talk."

Culluh looked at Kattell, and then at a Kazon who leaned over and said something to him. "How serious?" he asked the man, and then looked at Janeway. "What is this countermeasure you speak of?"

"Reading a slight destabilization of your warp core? It's going to get worse, unless you release those tractor beams."

Culluh's jaw clenched. "What are you doing? Cease at once, or I will fire again."

"You want Voyager in one piece, Culluh. You'd really rather not do that. And you haven't said anything that would convince me to surrender quietly. Rather the opposite." The Kazon leaned over again, looking alarmed.

"Maje--"

"Quiet," Culluh snarled to the man. "Captain, you have no capability to affect my engines at this distance. This woman has informed me of all your weapons systems."

"All the ones we had when she was on board, perhaps. She hasn't taken new acquisitions into account."

"Carrier wave functioning normally," said Kim blandly. Kattell darted her eyes to him, then back at Janeway.

"And where the hell would you get anything new? If you can't even buy a space-folder when it's offered to you--"

"From the base, of course. Some very interesting items in there."

"Don't give me that shit. You wouldn't have had time to get anything--"

"Woman, you said they blasted their way in and set charges to destroy the base. It seems to me they would have had ample time."

"Oh, that's what she told you, did she? Perhaps we should compare accounts, Culluh."

He frowned at Janeway, then at Kattell, whose eyes had lowered, flicking from side to side, a slight snarl on her face. His frown deepened in confusion, and he looked back at Janeway.

"What have you got to lose, Maje?" Chakotay said with the hint of a taunt. "Besides the rest of your ships...?" Culluh's jaw jutted out.

"She said you fired on my ship, and destroyed it with all of my men aboard. We found her in the life pod, orbiting the planet, the only survivor."

Janeway smiled, putting her hands on her hips. "Mr. Tuvok, arrange for our Kazon prisoner to be transported to the bridge, under guard."

"Aye, Captain."

"You have one of my men a prisoner?"

"We have. Purely by accident. We caught him in our transporter while evacuating our party from the base. We were there, but we didn't set charges. Your Cardassian friend sabotaged the reactors in an attempt to kill us all." The air shimmered beside her, and the Kazon materialized between two guards.

"Krast," said Culluh. "I greet you."

"I greet you, Maje. My shame is great--"

"You may atone for it, Krast. Tell me everything this alien woman has done." He jerked his head at Kattell, who drew in her chin and bared her teeth, another Kazon appearing on the viewscreen behind her with a watchful air.

"Maje, she plotted to take this ship. She captured officers as a bait to take the captain prisoner, and persuaded the marked one--" he pointed his chin at Chakotay--"to aid us. But he betrayed us into the hands of the Federations and we were forced to fight for our lives. She abandoned the fight, like a coward, and the Federations told us she had meant to keep the ship for herself and not hand it to you. We did not know what to make of that, and refused to be taken prisoner. Then the marked one returned after pursuing the woman, wounded, and warned us all to flee. The base was destroyed. I was told the woman had done it, and I believe that is the truth, for they did not seem to have planned it themselves. I do not know what happened to my brothers, because the transportation device seized me along with the Federations and brought me to their ship."

"Your brothers are all dead, Krast. I mourn for them as you mourn for them. But you say she had the Federation captain a prisoner?"

"Y-yes, Maje. For three days. She amused herself with her and would not let us execute her for her crimes as she deserved. She promised us that the rewards would be worth it. But my brothers are all dead?"

"That's the reward they have, Krast," said Janeway, and looked at Culluh. "I think you can see that the word of your friend isn't worth much. She's lied to you as she lied to us for her own ends. You've entrusted a traitor with your property, and this is the result. Here's a theory for you, Seska. I think your Kazon crew put two and two together after you escaped the blast, and mutinied. Your ship was destroyed in the struggle, killing them all--you probably had charges hidden all over--and you got in the life pod, knowing Culluh would return soon to get you. Then you blamed it all on us. You didn't realize we had a witness--probably thought he hadn't made it out of the base."

"Maje, the engine readings--" blurted out a voice.

"Silence!"

"It's a trick, Culluh," cried Kattell. "It's Torres and her damned particle beams--"

"Silence, woman. Krast, do you swear on your life that you have told the truth?"

"Yes, Maje. On my life."

"I release you, Krast."

"Thank you, Maje," said the Kazon, and the security guards seized his arms. He did not resist, but Janeway saw him twist his head, bite down hard, and suddenly relax to the floor. Kim gasped, and Chakotay knelt down to take the man's pulse.

"Dead," he said.

"I mourn for you, Krast," said Culluh.

"I'm sure you do, you bloodthirsty son of a--" Chakotay burst out. Janeway looked in horror at the body as the guards carried it to the turbolift, then stepped forward.

"Release those beams, Culluh. Three simultaneous core breaches will take Voyager with them, but that's better than falling into your hands. How are your readings now?"

"Maje, the other ships are reporting critical levels. We must break the tractor beams now."

"Radiation from the Kazon ships is fluctuating sharply," Kim put in, tapping at his console with sweat running down his face. "Breach imminent."

"Culluh, it--it has to be a trick. Don't listen to them!"

"Does this look familiar to you, Culluh?" Chakotay stepped back to his command chair, popped open a storage alcove, and brandished a flat card of bronzy metal. "The front door key."

The Kazon stared at the card, then at Janeway, and finally at Kattell. "Disengage the tractor beams," he said, in a low voice.

"You idiot! You're letting her make a fool of you again--"

Culluh gestured, and a guard stepped forward and put a weapon to the Cardassian's side. "You will be silent. Order the other vessels to disengage."

"Yes, Maje."

"Tractor beams have been released, Captain," said Kim after a moment.

Kattell turned to the viewscreen again, her lips in a rictus of fury. Her sharp teeth gnashed, and she spoke once more, despite the prod of the weapon. "Have a good time fucking her, Chakotay. I'll see you again, and I may just keep what I need of you, and throw away the rest. After all," and she smiled suddenly, "the face is the least important thing." The Cardassian features framed the familiar eyes.

"The Kazon are powering up weapons--"

"Mr. Kim, close the channel," said Janeway. "Engineering. Warp. Now."

"You've got it, Captain."

"Mr. Paris--"

"Engaging."

"You're learning." The stars drew out to streaks.

"Warp eight. Warp nine. Nine point five. Out of sensor range. We've lost them."

"Thank you, Mr. Paris."

Chakotay turned to her with a smile of genuine awe. "Captain," he said, "you know, that is a very old trick." He was quoting something she had once said to him, and she raised a brow, looking into his radiant face.

"One good thing about being in the Delta Quadrant--" she shot back at him,

"--old tricks are new again," they finished in unison. With the exception of Tuvok, the entire bridge crew burst out laughing.

"And if you believe that one," said Torres, emerging from the turbolift and down the steps, "I've got a load of corbomite I'd like to sell you--" Chakotay turned, caught her up in a bear hug, spun her around, set her down again, and kissed her formally on both cheeks.

"Lieutenant," he said, and gave her a brisk military nod while Janeway gripped her shoulder. Kim stood by, beaming, and Chakotay shook his hand. "Good thinking, Ensign. Bucking for a promotion?"

"Why not, Commander?" Kim replied, and Chakotay gave him his broadest grin.

"I'll put in a good word for you with the captain." He turned to look at Janeway again, and she held out her hand, and he took it in both his. Everyone grew quiet, the happy noise fading away. The captain and the first officer stood in their own world for a few moments, their crew watching the silent communion, until Chakotay released her and they sat, side by side.

"Reduce to warp six, and steady as you go, Mr. Paris."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, both of them?"

"Is the expression unclear, Lieutenant?"

"Uhh...no, sir, but I mean..." Paris radiated a mixture of surprise and barely suppressed glee. "I mean, it's not too usual to have both the captain and the first officer off the ship at once."

"That is correct. However, since this system is well defended and the inhabitants friendly to us, the risk is slight."

"Depends on what's at risk." Paris rolled his eyes at Kim, who glanced back in confusion.

"Captain Janeway is well able to assess risk," said Tuvok grimly, and returned to his work.

"Ooo-kay. But who's going to sign off on this diagnostic of the navigational array?"

"The captain will return to the ship in approximately four hours and ten minutes. Until then, I will authorize all progress reports on our repairs." Tuvok took the PADD Paris held, glanced at it, and rose from the command chair. "Carry on, Lieutenant."

"Yes...sir." Paris did not immediately return to his seat, but went to lean on the console of the Engineering station manned by B'Elanna Torres.

"So...they're taking a little shore leave together?" Tuvok heard before the door of the ready room closed behind him. He put the PADD down on Janeway's desk and stared at her empty chair for some time. Six and a half minutes later, he still felt mental disorganization, and took a seat before the desk, bringing his forefingers together in front of his chest at a steep angle in the traditional pose of a meditator.

"Become aware of your thoughts," he said quietly to himself, and closed his eyes.

"I'M GLAD there are still gardens somewhere..."

"So am I." Chakotay smiled at Janeway, and picked up a handful of colored earth from the bag on the ground before him.

"Is that another component of the painting?"

"Yes. I need to draw in four colors." He began to crush the lumps into powder with mortar and pestle. "Red, white, black, and yellow. I'll lay it out under the trees where the earth is bare, and destroy it when I'm finished."

"This looks like a good spot for it." They looked out at the lake and the expanse of green; meadow and forest, the rolling hills in the distance. Neelix had directed Voyager here, backtracking along their route to this well-populated planet with technological resources and large tracts of parkland in the temperate zones. "Almost familiar, isn't it?"

"All but the color of the leaves. And of course it's a little less well- planned." Chakotay smiled up at her again, then looked thoughtful. "I've never seen anything like those gardens, and I don't suppose I ever will again."

"That was almost the worst thing she did." Janeway knelt on the soft grass and ran one hand over the small flowers mixed with the turf.

"Yes. I can heal, but they are gone forever. And I doubt the Kazon give a damn about that. They've lost a refueling station, that's all. The Talaxians appreciated it, at least, and the people here--I thought the ambassador was going to cry when you told him what happened."

"All the technology that was in there, and they had never deciphered most of it, and never told anyone else about it. Who knows what there might have been?"

"Not much point in wondering now." Chakotay sighed and looked up into the tree tops. "She's probably back in Culluh's arms already," he said with an attempt at humor, "and all is forgiven."

Janeway glanced at him. "He's not the sharpest leader I've ever met."

"No, he's not." Chakotay smiled sourly. "And he's certainly more forgiving than I am if he hasn't killed her yet."

"You mean you--"

"No. I won't get her blood on my hands. I wouldn't shoot her if I had a bead on her right now. But I'd do anything to stop her. Anything. That's a promise." She had rarely seen him look so quietly ferocious.

"I know why you feel that way. But forgiving a little might help."

"Help with what?" He struck the pestle fiercely into the mortar.

"Chakotay..."

"I haven't got that kind of forgiveness. Does anyone?" Janeway did not answer, and he kept grinding earth with passionate application. "Maybe someday. Not yet. I'm sorry."

"If I can help..."

"This--is something I'm going to have to do on my own."

"Commander."

Chakotay stopped working and met her eyes, then dropped his gaze to the ground.

"We will almost certainly meet her again. When that happens, I am going to count on you to do your duty."

"I will." His expression was distant, and grim. The mortar and pestle lay idle in his hands.

Janeway did not quite like the sound of that, but she let it pass, wanting him to cast off his mood. "This is a beautiful place, and I hope your ceremony will help you heal yourself. It's safe here, and at least we can stop looking over our shoulders."

"For a little while." He looked at her, too solemn, and Janeway leaned over and kissed his mouth. When they parted, he was smiling again. "Thank you. I should just think about the view, and the ceremony."

She smiled back. "Please tell me more about the significance. It sounded fascinating."

"It's based on a very old ritual from the southwestern part of North America. I've only read about it myself--my people have had to reconstruct so much that was lost." Chakotay shook the powdered earth onto a cloth and put another lump in the mortar.

"A cleansing?"

"Yes, to cast out evil spirits and heal the body. I'll do it for you, and then we'll repeat it for me. As best as I can manage with limited time and only us--it should take days and involve the whole community. Have to make do with the resources I've got." He picked up a PADD and showed her a diagram of stylized human and plant figures arranged in a circle.

"I always thought you could do wonders with what you had, Chakotay. Is there anything else you want to find?"

"I asked about pollen to use in the blessing, and one of the merchants told me I could find a good plant growing wild around here. It's spring, so it's the season. I'm going to go look for some."

"I'll come with you." They left Chakotay's bags and bundles on the ground and walked off around the lake, hand in hand.

"WHEN WE GET BACK to the ship, will it be anything like this?"

Janeway had nearly dozed off in the warmth of late morning, but Chakotay's question, half-whispered into her hair, brought a faint chill to her skin. She didn't answer for a moment, wondering what she could possibly say, and then he answered for her.

"Once in a while, maybe. Beyond that..."

She shifted against his chest, her cheek damp with his perspiration, and mentally began to pick up her clothes and put them on again. She'd had time to hang her blouse on a tree limb, but her pants were crumpled on the ground and her underwear tossed on top of them to keep it clean. Her shoes...she wasn't sure what she had done with her shoes...

"I'd like to stay with you here, forever. Or some place like it, just the two of us, all alone," Chakotay whispered. "I could live like that for the rest of my life."

"I think I'd be worried about the crew in a case like that."

He sighed. "All right, so would I." His lips quirked. "But I think I could get over it."

"Maybe I could too." They laughed a little, and his arm tightened around her.

"Not like that's ever going to happen."

"I wouldn't presume to know what's going to happen to us, Chakotay. I do know that we'll be busy a great deal of the time, as always, and that we are going to have to be circumspect. Not clandestine, but discreet and professional. It's an open secret, obviously, but we can't behave as if we don't care for anyone's opinion."

"Damn, I don't. Right now, I couldn't care less if Tuvok was standing right over us and giving me the evil eye." He rolled and put both arms around her, cradled her head in one hand and looked into her face. "Tell me that you don't care. Just at this moment."

Janeway understood his meaning, and reached up to touch his lips. "At this moment, I wish there were some way to stay like this forever." He closed his eyes in gratitude, and leaned forward to kiss her, blind. Janeway opened her lips to him, and he gathered her closer, still passionate, but no longer with the urgency that had left their clothes scattered over a four-meter radius, her hair full of tiny flowers, his knees raw and their backs streaked with grass stains. And her lips soft and tender, her whole body luxuriously warm, wrapped in and around him. In a few hours, they would be back on Voyager, such whims, or storms, nearly impossible to indulge. For now, no one called them to duty. Janeway let herself relax into him, listening only to her deepest wishes.

Finally they parted, and looked at each other. Tenderness, a bond inexpressible in words, something that could find true voice only in the glance and touch. More, even, than she had imagined was there when it could not be acknowledged. Chakotay put his fingertips to her cheekbones, very lightly, framing her face in the curve of his hands, and smiled just enough to bring out the dimples. "You are beautiful out here under the sky. I'm going to memorize you like this, so that I can see you when I close my eyes." Janeway closed her own, briefly, and turned to kiss his palm. Chakotay was trembling slightly when she looked at him again, his lips parted. "Captain, I..."

"Chakotay. I do have a name, you know. Some things that you might say, I would rather not have a title attached to." He started, and seemed taken aback, then laughed.

"I...well, I have to admit it's a little hard for me to think of you as 'Kathryn'. It still seems--like a liberty, believe it or not."

"We'll just have to get you used to it. From you, I plan to solicit intolerable liberties."

Chakotay's smile broadened into a grin that made her dizzy. "All right, I'd better get started. Kathryn Janeway, I love you."

"And I love you. No matter what happens, and even after we get back to the ship." She kissed him, sat up and looked around. "What on earth did you do with my shoes?"

"I threw them pretty far away," he replied, still grinning, and pulled her down to him again.

"SIT HERE, KATHRYN, and put your hands on your knees--like so." Chakotay guided her to the center of his large circular sand painting and settled her cross-legged on it. "Now don't move, or speak. This is a kind of meditation, and you need to keep your mind clear of evil thoughts."

"If you want me to avoid evil thoughts, you shouldn't have worn that open shirt, or those leggings. Those do fit you awfully well--"

"That's not evil. That's perfectly all right. Perhaps even beneficial. This is a reaffirmation of life, and a move to another stage of it, and sex has a lot to do with life and its stages."

"It's hard to think of sex in conjunction with ceremonial practices."

"Why not? It's part of life, and a very important one. It passes life to the next generation, and it lets us touch the infinite in each other, sometimes. There's nothing more religious than good sex. I've been feeling very religious lately." Chakotay smiled slightly, but he seemed serious, and Janeway suppressed her quip and sat still. He brushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead, kissed her lightly between the eyebrows, and stood up. The dappled shade of leaves fell on his face, and the breeze off the lake stirred his clothing and her hair. He stood quietly for a while, his eyes half closed, his hands raised at waist level, moving in a slow rhythm through the warm air. Then he began to walk around her, circling the painting on which she sat four times. He picked up the bag in which he had gathered the pollen and continued walking in circles, dipping up the feathery powder from the bag and letting it fall over her head: a symbol of life, and a blessing. When she was covered in a fine drift of yellow, he put down the bag and sat in front of her, and began to chant. The words were unfamiliar, but she caught her name repeated, and he had told her that he would be asking the spirits of this place to help, and to call the wind and water to purify them both. Janeway preferred to think of spirits as a metaphor, but the high sweet sound of his voice and the sight of his face, glowing with serene joy and concentration, washed over her, warmer than the air. Draped in a veil of renewal, she sat with her companion and let all fear, all stain, all hatred dissolve away. The trees arched over their heads, the grass rippled around them with the breeze, the sun danced on the water.

"TIME TO HEAD BACK into town. They'll be waiting for us." Chakotay swept a leafy branch across the ground, blurring the colors of his sand painting into the earth. The symbols he had drawn so painstakingly with a trickle of powder between finger and thumb vanished.

"Why do you do that?"

"It's absorbed a lot of things that need to be banished. This releases them."

"How do you feel now?"

"Better. I...think I'm going to be pretty happy for a while." He smiled at her.

"I think I will be too. I'm glad that helped you."

"And I'm glad you helped me with it. I might have done something alone the way I used to, but this was much better." He rose and held out his hand. Janeway took it, then drew him closer, and Chakotay slipped his arms around her waist.

"Kathryn..." he whispered, and kissed her.

"Let's walk back the whole way. It will take a little longer than the transport..."

"Yes. As long as possible. Nothing lasts forever." He picked up his bags and looked at the sweep of colors in the earth. "Nothing."

"Some things will," Janeway said, and touched his face, lightly.

The sun gradually declined as they walked along the road, the shadows lengthening in front of them, the colors deepening in the sky. A stream followed on their right-hand side, paralleling the road, sometimes winding closer to its edge, sometimes pulling away. The noise of the water barely rose above the sound of their boots on the gravel. A little bridge arched over the stream at one point where the road forked, and they paused to look down into the water. Two shadows, one straight and slim, the other broad and tall, carrying a burden that stooped him. Chakotay put a hand on Janeway's shoulder, and she turned to him.

"Look at the leaves."

"Where?"

"Down the road, about a hundred meters. The other fork, the one that doesn't go to the town. It ends there, and there's a grove."

She looked where his chin pointed, and saw the warm light on thick foliage, the trees so dense along the roadside that they seemed a solid hedge, hemming it in on both sides.

"Is there something unusual?"

"That color--I don't think it's a trick of the light." His eyes were wide, his lips parted, some kind of hope in his face.

"I don't--oh."

Violet. Deep purple-blue, dancing in late sunlight, and in the sunset breeze.

"I've got to go take a look at that grove."

"I'll come with you."

In ten minutes, they stood under the shade, looking up into the darkening shadows.

"These are very old, I think, though they are not that tall." Janeway put a hand on the thick silver bole of the nearest tree. "A natural dwarf variety, slow-growing and long-lived."

"I had been wondering why the garden hadn't become overgrown in all that time..."

"Are they the same?" She took out her tricorder.

"I...think so--yes." Chakotay had walked on ahead. His voice had the ring of absolute conviction, and she glanced up, surprised.

"How can you tell? I'd have to do a comparative DNA sequence--"

"There." He pointed to the center of the grove. Janeway moved up to join him as he strode in that direction, and saw an obelisk on a pedestal, one stray shaft of sunlight grazing it through the trees. Bronzy metal, and on it, a worn diagram of a solar system, the fourth planet highlighted. A star map surrounded it, and a route was drawn through the constellations, a route they had taken themselves.

"Come here, and feast..." Chakotay muttered.

"I'll record the inscription so we can decode it," said Janeway, pushing tricorder keys. "But I think you must be right."

"Some of them survived, at least. Some of them were able to leave to look for a new home, or just to place signposts for others."

"They had exhausted all their resources." Janeway remembered the depleted asteroids, the great barren desert sprinkled with ancient ruins. "But they still left an oasis behind, and treasures..."

Chakotay's eyes were brimming with tears. "The last thing they built. An apology to the planet, as perfect and fruitful as they could make it, and an offering to every traveler. Hiding the burial goods of an entire civilization."

"Dear God." She watched the tears roll down his cheeks. "Chakotay--did we desecrate a grave?"

"Not us. Not even the Kazon, really--it's been burned in a pyre now. A few tomb robbers, more or less, are only to be expected. We only saw the upper part of the labyrinth, and the sarcophagus is usually in the inner chambers. Whatever it might have been."

They stood so long under the violet leaves that the sun set, and Tuvok called her, worried.

"PLEASE, TUVOK. Sit down." She patted the sofa beside her, but he could not move. "All right, then. I'll stand." Janeway got up and leaned on the railing, her features tight, looking at him from under her brows.

He remained by the desk, his arms rigid at his sides. "Do whatever you believe is appropriate." Unfortunately, there was a detectable trace of bitterness in his intonation, which he regretted. "I apologize, Captain. I realize I must take your emotional state into account in this case."

"It's not a 'state', my friend. It's me."

"Truly?" His voice was carefully neutral now. "This seems highly uncharacteristic--"

Janeway sighed deeply, a long breath in, a long breath out, and Tuvok stopped, knowing she was about to speak.

"What you sense is a difference in me, I don't doubt. No one could fail to be changed by such an experience. Though the change had started before I ever knew it was taking place. Now I've been forced to turn and look it in the eye. It would have caught up to me eventually, one way or another." His captain was not speaking to him so much as to an unseen judge, an abstract ideal with whom she pled a case. "I never consciously intended this to happen. I didn't let myself realize what was going on, because it was not appropriate, and I don't think of myself as someone who indulges in inappropriate lines of conduct. I might have seen the signs earlier, and perhaps been able to turn the course of events. But I doubt it. And now, I wouldn't give up what I have for anything." She stood up straight and looked over his head, her eyes clear and bright. "If that's weakness, then it's one I share with every living thing. I feel the pull of another life-- Tuvok. Your wife...do you think of her often?"

He was puzzled at her words, and at her apparent change of subject, then made the connection between the threads of thought. "Yes," he said, and fell silent.

"I'm glad. Not that you are apart from her, or that you miss her, but that you have that connection, and that there is a place in...in your heart for another person. You haven't closed it off, even though missing her causes you...discomfort. Everyone needs that, even someone with responsibilities and principles that she must uphold. Even if she never fills that place, she has to hold it open, and know it is there, and know that she has the capacity to feel that connection. I cannot close it off, because I will suffocate if I do so. I have to have vulnerability if I am to feel at all. So I am vulnerable. But unable to do my duty? No. I try to look ahead and see my own stumbling-blocks, and so steer around them. That's the logical thing to do. Wouldn't you say?" She was smiling at him, and put her hands on her hips.

"Eminently logical. We must all work with the capacities and shortcomings we possess."

"And emotional states, Tuvok. Don't forget emotional states." She had her familiar air of suppressed humor.

"You have told me that emotional connection is a principle for a Human, Captain."

"Yes," she replied after a moment, and the laughter was gone from her voice. "One principle among many." She looked out the viewport again. "But one that gives meaning to all the others."

"As is logic for a Vulcan?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps the highest meaning, the framework without which everything is senseless."

"I cannot verify the analogy from personal experience."

"I've got plenty of experience of my own." She looked at him. "Are you going to give this--give him--the benefit of the doubt?"

"I...must. I know that his emotions are sincere." He recalled a moment when he had felt them himself, in a memory so vivid he had lived it with the rememberer.

"Do you? I'm glad--though why do you put it that way? You sound as if you had some kind of independent proof."

Tuvok paused a long time to consider his answer, and gave none.

"Tuvok?"

"I am not at liberty to speak of it."

"You know he is sincere. You know it--and you don't use that word lightly."

Again he did not reply, and willed his mind to stillness.

"And...you realized that he carried a transmitter when he was sent back...and he somehow managed to tell you about the plot without her overhearing anything."

"Kattell's error in allowing you to convey your coded message was the turning point."

"Yes, she was feeling overconfident, to say the least--good God."

"Captain?"

"You just called her Kattell." Her eyes were wide and bright, blazing realization, and Tuvok felt his face stiffen at another memory, no less vivid.

...Sweating, desperate, sick with fear, and the woman demanding a service they knew they could not perform. She told them a secret; she told them a solitary truth about herself; for what purpose, they could not say...

"There's only one way you could know all that, and especially her name-- He never would have told you, and I certainly haven't." She retreated to the couch and sat down heavily. "My God." Neither of them spoke for several minutes, and Janeway stared out of the viewport, her face trembling.

Tuvok could not resist the memory, though he shuddered slightly in the effort to do so. Their captain with them, though not in body, the woman crying out in anguished pleasure. She was shackled to the wall, but the power of their connection put her in their arms across the compartment, spirits embracing, interpenetrating. The gift was made, and it was the kind that could never be recalled.

Finally Janeway took a deep breath. "That...that couldn't have been pleasant for either of you."

"At...that...juncture, it had become essential."

"And you know what happened with her, with us. How much else did you see?"

"With respect, I cannot answer that question. The privacy of the meld is a sacred trust." The words tasted dry in his mouth.

"You saved his life. You knew, and you saved his life."

"He was wounded and unconscious, and I was present."

"Oh, no, Tuvok. It was a little more than that, I think. You shielded him..."

"Yes," he admitted, and turned away from her gaze, from her eyes filled with tears and gratitude.

"For my sake...?"

"It would not have been logical to allow Voyager's first officer to die if I could possibly prevent it."

"No, of course not." She smiled, and closed her eyes. "When logic and emotion point to the same conclusion, who can evade it, or even say what the justification really is?"

"I believe it is still important to make the distinction."

"Thank you, my friend," she said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"HOW ARE THE NEW trainees working out, B'Elanna?"

"They're hopeless," Torres growled as she brushed past Chakotay, dragging lengths of conduit. "Can't tell a laser probe from a sonic drill. And Parsons welded herself inside a bulkhead by mistake while she was replacing circuits. It took me twenty minutes to get her out, because that idiot Price knocked the transporters off line."

"Sounds like they're trying hard." She caught one of his puckish smiles.

"Oh, hell, they'll be fine in a couple of weeks." Torres smiled in return. "I suppose I must have been like that once."

"Not likely."

"Not at all likely," she shot back, and Chakotay smiled as if he wanted to light up the entire engine room.

"I'll get out of your way, then. I wouldn't want to trip over anything and knock the plug out of the wall while you're still working on repairs."

"Knock the plug out? Just how long ago did you go to the Academy, Chakotay?"

"About a lifetime," he replied, and swung down the ladder to the lower level. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night. Sleep well."

He looked sharply up at her, then his face lit up again. "You mean that?"

"I do. Go away."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, and flipped her a mock salute.

FUNNY how he hadn't noticed that before.

But then, he hadn't ever been in her quarters until two weeks ago.

That closed door, the one in the connecting bulkhead, an unobtrusive line in the wall, had a counterpart. He hadn't even thought of it as a door, since it had never been open in all the months he had lived here. There was a passage between the rooms, if the door were to be unlocked on both sides. He recalled that she had a bookshelf against hers. His had a weaving hung on it, but it wasn't obstructed.

"Umm...computer, locate Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway is in her quarters."

He decided to knock.

After a moment, he heard an answering rap, and he tapped out a little rhythm he had learned at the Academy.

"Janeway to Chakotay."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Why are you playing 'shave and a haircut' on my wall? I am trying to read, you know." She was not succeeding at keeping the amusement out of her voice.

"I was just wondering where this door led."

"Right into my sitting room, of course. Need proof?"

"Why not?" He heard a code sequence being entered, and entered his own on the panel next to his hand. The door slid open, sticking slightly at the midpoint, and they stood facing each other. She wore her rosy nightdress and gown, and her cheeks were as pink as the satin.

"Don't I get any privacy off duty?"

Chakotay ran his eyes over her. "Just as much as you ask for."

"Oh, come in, for heaven's sake. I'm not going to make any headway thinking about you standing forlornly on the other side of the door."

"Thanks." They smiled at each other, and he stepped through after moving the bookcase aside. "This looks awfully convenient. When did you have it installed?"

"It's standard. Check the blueprints."

"Oh, of course. You had a premonition, and told the design committee--"

Janeway had picked up her cup of coffee to take a sip, and spluttered. "I'm not known for that kind of premonition."

"I've got one right now."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Let's see...it's taking shape...I'm going to move a little closer to you, and touch your hair..." He did exactly as he said, and her lips curved in a smile. "Then I think I'm going to take this coffee cup and put it down on the table, and take you in my arms, and feel you there, ahh, and then, I'm going to kiss..."

Neither of them said a word for several minutes. Then he whispered, "Kathryn," and put his lips to her forehead.

"Chakotay...I wish there was something special I could call you, just in private."

"The way you say my name is all I'll ever need to hear."

"Does that mean you've got some kind of terrible nickname?" Her eyes sparkled wickedly.

"My lips are sealed."

"Mmmm." They kissed again, and she moved to seat them on the couch. "Now, I really did want to finish this book before bedtime. Can we behave ourselves that long? There's only a few more pages to go."

"Certainly." She settled back against the armrest and put her bare feet on his lap, and he began to rub them with one hand while idly turning over the ornaments on her end table. She had quite a few little objects of her own--a bronze fish, a spired golden sphere on a stand, and a dark oval stone, not unlike one he had carved--

"Gods."

"What?" She looked up, startled.

"Where--where did you get this?"

"It was here. On the floor. Didn't you leave it here? I thought it must be some kind of charm."

"I...oh, gods, I didn't even remember dropping it." He leaned over with it in his palm, staring at the marking. Janeway sat up and put a hand on his back. "I shouldn't have been in here, not then..."

"Chakotay--it's all right. I know you had a good reason. I don't understand these things, but I know they are important to you."

He gripped the stone tightly and dropped his head. "It...I was meditating in here-- Just after the Maquis asked me to run away..."

"I heard some of that meeting on the transmission."

"I never thought I would be fighting them and you at the same time. I defied your order and I told them to go to hell."

Janeway let out a hard breath and stroked his back, looking into the distance. "You did what you felt was right. You were in command at the time, and you had to follow your own convictions. I'd hardly say I regretted the outcome--but next time, do keep the welfare of the whole ship in mind."

"I did. I kept your welfare in mind, and that's the welfare of the ship. If I'd said I was leaving, she would just have shot you." Chakotay embraced Janeway, lifting her to his lap and pressing his face into the silk between her breasts. Her hands went to his head and cradled it, and they sat silent and entwined for a moment.

"She almost did shoot me after the meeting. I don't know how I kept my head...I was thinking of you and what you must have been going through."

Chakotay quivered, and held her closer. "I felt something a little while later, while I was in here," he said, turning his cheek to rest against her chest. "I thought you were dead--I knew you were dead, for a moment."

"What?"

"Tell me what she did after she heard the Maquis." Chakotay pulled back to look into Janeway's face, a feeling like trance stealing over him; intense clarity, charged peacefulness.

"She--Kattell--she was furious." Janeway moved restlessly in his arms. "She tried to force me to admit that I'd told you to take Voyager out of her reach. She got angrier and angrier, and she was waving that phaser around...I told her to calm down and listen to you, but there was hardly a sound that made sense. I had no idea what was happening."

"I hadn't much idea myself..." he said softly.

"She seemed frightened, and she said something about getting the shivers when you pulled your 'tricks'. But she started laughing after a minute and told me you had no choice anyway, because she had covered for every contingency. That all your efforts to save my life were going to come to nothing, and that everyone you sent down was going to die with me. Then she just put the phaser to my head and pressed the trigger. The safety was on, but I didn't know that." She shuddered suddenly, and he sat back and laid her head on his chest, soothing with one hand on her forehead.

"I thought that must have been what happened..."

"You knew that?"

"Somehow."

"Oh, Chakotay." She was almost crying, and he wrapped both arms tightly around her, the intense peace suffusing him.

"It killed every doubt I had." He kissed her hair, brought out his hand and looked down at the stone. "She made sure I would never leave you."

"Even at risk to the ship?"

"Yes. It may be a weakness, but you, personally, are my reason for serving here." He traced the lines of the carving with his thumb. "I can't deny that any longer. Though now I'm here for life, no matter what happens."

"What does the symbol mean?"

"I guess I know now. Two in mutual orbit, balancing each other's movements. You are the center of the system, and my path brought me in to join you. That may have perturbed the rhythm, but we've found a new one." Janeway stroked his cheek, and he kissed her fingers.

"I'm glad we have. Oh, now I'm all wound up. I need some music--computer, play program Janeway Epsilon Seven." A delicate sound of harp and fiddle, buoyant and yearning. She sat up, stroked her hair back, and retrieved her coffee. "Can I get you anything? Some tea?"

"No, nothing. I'm sorry, Kathryn. I didn't mean to disturb your quiet evening."

"There will be a lot more disturbances before we're through with our lives, Chakotay. All we can do is try to settle them as they come."

"I'll help you in every way I can."

"I know. I'll try to accept it as it's meant." She rose and held out her arms. "This is one of my favorite waltzes. And there's no one else here to see me do it in a way all my own. Care to dance?"

He looked up, a grin preceding his laugh. "Of course. Thank you for asking."

"Can't let you do all the work around here."

Chakotay rose and embraced her, then shoved the table to the wall with his foot and moved a chair. "There, we've got some space to work with." He took Janeway's hand and spun her around, her gown spiraling out, then put his hand on her waist and took her into the rhythm of the music. Around and around, slow and floating, circling the room as they drew closer and closer to each other. On the third pass, they brushed the wall by the bedroom door, and Chakotay laughed.

"Captain, you're leading."

"Yes, Commander, I am," she replied with a smile, and he smiled back like pure white sunrise, and the dance went on.

END

MAQUIS

I had not thought you aught but proud;
The cause you fought for vain though just,
When we were forced in awkward trust
I found your courage spoke too loud.

Your sword was what you had in life,
All your command to save my own;
Could I divide and still have grown
If I had such a choice as knife?

Now higher in my sight you stand
Than many who did never fall;
O do not solely noble call
Who fight for law and not for land.

Until my home was lost to me
I could not fathom that same pride;
Until you settled at my side
The love of place was strange to me.

So as the foreign void we roam
To one another we may be
A compass point, a light to see
The path that draws the wanderer home.

L. R. Bowen, June 1996

PLEASE EMAIL ME at LRBowen@aol.com or write me at the address below to tell me how you liked "The Cardassian Mask". Or talk to me about my fanfic, artwork or Star Trek and creative work in general. Visit my web site at http://members.aol.com/lrbowen/lrbowen.htm to see some of the artwork from the printed zine version of this story.