Chapter Three

            Chakotay folded his arms on his lap, shifting impatiently in his chair.  After months in the great outdoors, the sterile, Starfleet Command waiting rooms felt stifling.  He scanned the bare, gray wall, and wondered how security could be so important to these admirals that they didn't mind the absence of windows.  He'd go mad spending eighty hours a week without a view port to the outside universe.

            He fumbled for something to occupy himself with during his break, and picked up his Data Padd again to reexamine his proposal, checking for flaws.  An old Maquis acquaintance, now CEO of his own cargo company, had requested Chakotay's help in bringing a trading route proposal to Starfleet's attention.  Unlike Chakotay, many former Maquis were not in good standing with the fleet, his acquaintance included.  His acquaintance had offered him a captaincy in return for Chakotay's assistance in the matter.  Although Chakotay was initially uninterested, after a few months planet bound, he  found himself longing for the adventure of space again.

            So he was back here at Starfleet Command, in the halls he once vowed he'd never walk again.  He half expected to run into Kathryn Janeway around every turn in the corridors, but thus far, he was relieved (disappointed?) that he had yet to encounter her.

            The receptionist emerged from the inner office, a cheerful-looking blonde with an Ensign's rank.

            "Mr. Chakotay?  Admiral Durant will see you now."

Durant?  Perfect, Chakotay thought sullenly, recognizing the name.  Janeway's husband.  Possibly the future president of the Federation.  He knew Durant was the chair of the Trade Committee, but he'd hoped he wouldn't deal with him personally.

            Strangely, though, a part of him was morbidly curious to see this man as he followed the receptionist to one of the gray doors in the empty hallway.  She punched in a code, and the door slid open.  The ensign stepped aside to let Chakotay into the room.

            Chakotay was immediately blinded by the white light streaming in from a large window overlooking the central courtyard.  He squinted his eyes against the sudden glare to make out the other man's face.

            "Ah, Commander Chakotay.  John Durant."  Chakotay reached out to clasp the extended hand.  Durant's clear, hazel eyes locked with Chakotay's, and the two men took a moment to sum each other up.    Durant was slightly taller than Chakotay, with a hint of frailty in his long, sinewy physique.  He had a thick crop of sandy brown hair just graying at the temples.   He was handsome in a conventional way-- symmetrical features, an aquiline nose, straight forehead, tanned skin.  The smile on his lips seemed very friendly and exceedingly false.  Chakotay disliked him instantly.

            "It's a pleasure to meet you, Admiral.  I've heard a lot about you."

            Durant's laugh was rich and deep.  "Don't believe everything you hear, Commander."

            Chakotay nodded, and offered,  "I didn't realize I was meeting with you personally."

            An easy smile playing at Durant's mouth.  "I admit it's unconventional, but I've heard quite a deal about you.  I believe you're acquainted with my wife, Kathryn."

            Chakotay made an effort to keep the smile on his lips.

            Durant continued, "I couldn't pass up the chance to meet one of her Voyager colleagues.  I'm quite an admirer of your crew... forging your way back to the Alpha Quadrant against incredible odds..."

            "Thank you, Admiral, but most of the credit should go to Cap-- Admiral Janeway."

            "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she?"  Durant said.

            Do you even realize I haven't talked to her in a year? Chakotay thought incredulously as he replied,  "That she is, Admiral."  Then, for good measure,  "You're a lucky man."

            "That's what I tell myself every day."  Durant smiled again, then circled around behind his desk.  "Please, take a seat, Mr. Chakotay."

            Chakotay sat down, and Durant picked up a padd, and his eyebrows drew together as he studied it.

            "So, I understand you have a proposal for a new trade route.  This cargo company... what's it called?"

            "Brenner and Associates, Admiral," Chakotay replied.

            "Hmm... small businesses.  I'm very much in support of small companies.  Times are increasingly difficult, aren't they, Mr. Chakotay? What with Orion monopoly--"

            Chakotay watched this all curiously.  "Forgive me, Admiral, but shouldn't I be meeting with the Trade Committee to discuss this?"

            "The Trade Committee?"  Durant looked up at him, then laughed with easy arrogance.  "Mr. Chakotay, as far as you're concerned, I am the Trade Committee.  I hold the ranking seat, my wife holds one of the seats, and," he leaned in closer, eyes twinkling, "confidentially, of course, Nechayev and I have a certain understanding... I make and break those votes."

            "I see," Chakotay said quietly, digesting the Admiral's lofty assertion.

            "But you needn't concern yourself, Chakotay-- may I call you Chakotay?"  Chakotay nodded once.  Durant continued,  "Chakotay, I know, more than anyone, the benefits small companies bring to the lives of every day Federation citizens-- jobs, variety, quality.  It's a travesty that large companies dominate most trade routes!  If I can do anything to help the common man, the employees of small-time cargo companies--"

            Gods.  He's rehearsing his political jargon on me, Chakotay thought as he smiled and nodded a few times.  Durant continued his spiel against monopolistic and univeralization practices, then came to,  "--so how about I take this to some of my stellar cartographers, and we'll get back to you about this proposed route?"

             He was grasping at the padd in Chakotay's hand, and Chakotay relinquished it.

            "We've had a few stellar cartographers evaluate it already," Chakotay said.  "They found no flaws."

            "It's protocol, Chakotay.  I'm sure it checks out perfectly... but it saves us some paperwork, and you know lawyers."  Durant laughed, shaking his head, then tucked the padd in his desk, and said,  "You should hear from us within 48 hours."

            Durant rose to his feet.  Cue to leave.

            Chakotay stood as well.  As he reached out to shake hands with Durant again, Durant's comm badge chirped.

            "Admiral Durant, your wife just walked past--"

            The door opened before the receptionist could finish her statement, and Durant said,  "That's all right, Maddie."  He watched the entrance intently, his expression suddenly cool and unreadable.

            Chakotay turned to see Kathryn Janeway charge into the room, her bright auburn hair pulled back tightly in a bun, her face pale and proud.  Her eyes were locked on Durant like death rays when she began in a hiss,  "Just so you know--"  She noticed the companion, and in a suddenly forced, light tone,  turning to look at Chakotay, "Oh, I--"

            Then recognition flooded her face, and the words halted.  Chakotay could hear his heart pounding as their gazes clashed, and his throat constricted sharply.  He could see shock and dismay in her eyes.  She looked frail; she'd lost weight.  Far too much weight.  Her features were harder than he remembered (how was that possible, here in the Alpha Quadrant?)-- her lips a thin, tight line, her cheeks concave and sallow, her eyes sharp, suspicious, and strangely bloodshot.

            Durant was regarding her with interest and apprehension.  "Kathryn, I believe you're acquainted with my guest," Durant said.  There was a surprising edge to his voice now, and Chakotay noticed Durant scrutinizing her intently.

            Janeway's eyes were locked on Chakotay, shocked beyond guile.  He saw her swallow once, then blink rapidly a few times, struggling to recover her composure.  "Chakotay.  What a surprise," she murmured in a hollow voice.

            Try not to sound too enthusiastic, Kathryn, Chakotay thought sarcastically, and with the same lack of warmth, he intoned flatly, "It's good to see you, Admiral."

            She looked like a waif.  He'd never seen her so thin, even early in their Delta Quadrant journey.  Even her voice sounded weaker, lacking the conviction and power he associated with her.

            "You're meeting with the Trade Committee, then?"  she seemed to fumble for words, then looked to Durant uncertainly, and then back to Chakotay.  She avoided eye contact; her gaze was focused on some point above him.  An empty laugh.  "I suppose I should keep closer track of the committee agenda... I wouldn't have called in sick today."

            Oh, but she would have.  He could see her dismay at meeting him.  Embarrassment, shame; she refused to lock eyes with him.

            On the other hand, her husband seemed quite satisfied with the turn in events.  His chest was puffed with a new confidence, his voice strangely vital.  "It's fortunate you're feeling better than you were this morning, honey.  And what a delightful coincidence!" Durant said.  "Perhaps you could dine with us some evening, Mr. Chakotay?  How does tonight sound?"

            Janeway grew even paler, seeming to sway on her feet, and Chakotay fleetingly thought that Durant was gloating.

            "Really. You must," Janeway put in lifelessly.  She shot another wary glance at Durant, her eyes sharp, cold.  Durant didn't acknowledge her discomfort; he continued to smile genially.

            Chakotay marveled at the strange the interplay between the two.  If some petty, resentful part of him had wished her ill, it looked like his wish had come true.  There was no love here, no affection that he could see.  Such a chill in the room, such underlying hostility.  And she looked horrible, downright unhealthy.  He wouldn't be surprised if her legs buckled under her.

            "Thank you for the invitation," Chakotay replied, forcing himself to sound natural.  "But I'm not on Earth for very long, and I have other engagements scheduled."

            The relief that washed over Janeway's face was so blatant, so unconcealed, that a slightly vengeful Chakotay was tempted to change his mind and accept the invitation after all.  Just tempted, though.  She'd burned him, but he wasn't going to justify her cruelty by resorting to pettiness.

            Durant clicked his tongue to express disappointment, and then slapped Chakotay on the back, the fake smile on his face.

            "A pity.  I truly would love to meet more of Kathryn's friends."

            Chakotay smiled blandly at him.  "Well, I've never known Admiral Janeway to be particularly social."

            Janeway smiled weakly at that.

            Durant laughed.  "Truer words were never spoken.  She doesn't get out of the office nearly enough!"

            Janeway's smile had faded as quickly as it had come.

            Durant continued, "Well, then, Chakotay, another time.  Thanks for stopping by."

            "Thank you for considering my proposal.  Have a good day, Admiral."  Chakotay nodded to Janeway,  "Admiral."  As he walked past them towards the door, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Janeway stood stock still, frozen as he passed.  Durant, for his part, just looked exceedingly smug.

*          *          *

            Janeway turned back to her husband after Chakotay left, feeling her heart pound in her chest.  Her head whirled, and her hangover felt suddenly more pronounced.  She hadn't been prepared for that-- not for Chakotay, not today.  She'd fought her nausea and pulled herself out of bed to prove something to herself, to prove something to her much-loathed husband.  All that effort, only to be confronted by a sight that had dominated her nightmares.  Chakotay and Durant, two men who did not belong in the same universe as each other, much less in the same room.  The sight of them together was unnatural and ominous.  She'd spent the last several minutes fighting her rising panic.

            "Why did you invite him here?" Her voice was calmer she'd expected, but her thoughts were still urgent.  Did Durant know about the last reunion?  Had he hacked into her original personal logs?  Had he guessed her true feelings for Chakotay?

            "Actually, he invited himself," Durant said, seeming to watch for any uncertainty that might play across her features.  "It may come as a surprise to you, Kathryn, but your former criminal friend actually has legitimate business with the Trade Committee."

            She could tell he was being honest, and her body sagged as her fear faded.  It was nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Chakotay was safe.

            "You've always said you hate the man," Durant continued.  "I was curious to see what about him, exactly, merits such disdain.  I rather liked the fellow, myself."

            "Did you?  I suppose that's why you tried force me into dining with him.".

            "I felt sorry for the guy.  Another poor chap on the wrong side of Kathryn Janeway's affections." His tone was teasing. 

            "I didn't spend seven years trying to escape that man just to get entangled in his affairs now,"  she replied seriously.  She wasn't feeling generous enough today to fake camaraderie with Durant, and certainly not over a subject so close to home.

            "Does it bother you to see him?"

            She knew better than to answer that honestly.  "I couldn't care less."  Her voice was sharper than she'd intended, but it conveyed the proper disdain. 

            "Well, he seemed pretty cold around you, as well.  Broken heart, I suppose.  Empek claims he seemed rather taken with you in his personal logs."

            Janeway raised a sharp eyebrow at the invasion of Chakotay's privacy, but she knew she should not have expected anything else.  Everyone who met with Durant, or with her, had a thorough background check; no stone was left unturned.  Empek was methodical in his duties. 

            "Well," Janeway said quietly, circling around Durant to sit down, feeling her confidence rise,  "Mr. Chakotay has an infinite capacity for self delusion.  He always could convince himself of one lie or another.  I never had it in me to hurt him.  No one could have realized my relief when he focused his delusions on Seven of Nine."

            Durant chuckled, impressed with her heart for falsehood.  "Well, I'm not going to ask you to like him, Kathryn, but I'm going to ask you to tolerate him for just a few days."

            She halted her step, curious and ill at ease.  "Oh?"

            Durant was already tapping at the padd, his eyes feverishly studying the data recorded on it.  He'd already forgotten her.  "You know I've been having trouble with the business sector, and your wayward admirer is the perfect showcase."  He smiled wryly.  "John Durant-- friend of the working man...  Opening up new sectors of space to small businesses."

            At her blank look, he elaborated,  "I'll grant this proposal... in fact, I'll give them access to even another trade route.  We'll make a show of it-- invite the press, hold the ceremony on a Federation star base.  It will be an incredible spectacle-- good publicity."

            "And what does this have to do with me?"

            "You'll be the loving, supportive wife... looking on proudly."

            "Naturally," she muttered.  She absently twirled an antique stylus on the edge of his desk.

            "It would raise questions if you weren't there," Durant added, watching the movement of her thin fingers.  "He is your former Voyager colleague."  He took a step closer.  "Can you do this for me, Kathryn?  Smile, nod, that's all.  Nothing more than I've asked of you."

            "Do I have a choice?" she shot back tartly.  She turned on her heels and left the office. 

*          *          *

            A week later, Kathryn's resolve faltered.

            She was scheduled to meet her husband at the fertility clinic at 0900 hours, but something stopped her. 

            A baby.  Jesus Christ, a baby.  She was going to be a brood mare for a potential dictator.  She was going to have his baby.

            The fear halted her step midway, and sent her fleeing back to the subway, where she ripped off her comm badge and on a whim took the direct line to Saint Petersburg.  No way in hell was she going to step foot in that fertility clinic today.  No way in hell.

            She spent the rest of the day wandering through the spacious, tourist-friendly streets of the Russian city, trying to distract herself from the reality that loomed closer to her every day.  She realized that there was no escaping Durant.  He had people everywhere; he could find her if she dyed her skin, colored her hair, and resequenced her DNA. She could never hope to charter a flight away from Earth, and even if she could, she knew she'd be sacrificing members of her crew for the sake of momentary freedom.

            They were still her crew.  Even with two years' distance, and a wider emotional estrangement, they were Her Crew.  And she couldn't leave them to die.  She knew he would kill them all without a qualm of conscience if she divorced him tomorrow.

            By the time she returned to San Francisco, it was too late to schedule another appointment at the fertility clinic before the Free Trade Gala on Deep Space Seven.  Empek was waiting to express Durant's displeasure at her absence.  Just a friendly talking to.

            By the time she'd sufficiently healed to return to duty, nearly five days later, it was time to depart for the Free Trade Gala.

            She sat in the shuttle, gazing absently out the window as Durant and Empek spoke in hushed voices out of hearing range.  Chakotay would be at Deep Space Seven.  She would have to face him with a straight face and an unassailable emotionless front.  She would have to pretend she hadn't spent nights in agony for the last year, clinging to the memories of their brief, elusive pleasure, stifling the pain of her loneliness.  Hiding the fear-- the fear that he hated her, the fear that she'd give herself away, betray him to Durant, kill him.  The fear that his love would fade forever. 

            And after seeing him the other day, the pain was all the more pronounced.  Chakotay-- looking tan, healthy, and so beautiful to her that she nearly wept.  The man who had once held so much promise for her, who had once inspired so much hope.  For one night, they had something incredible, and that one night would have to sustain her for the rest of her days.  Thinking of him, she felt sick with loss.  She felt like a starving woman, one who had the only source of nourishment dangled in front of her face, then pulled out of her reach.

            But he can never know.  Never.