The last time Durant had been wounded, he was 30 years old. He was carving a turkey at a diplomatic function, a good joke had distracted him, and he gashed the knife right against his hand. It was shortly after the war, and although he'd never been injured in the Cardassian conflict, the carnage he'd seen there had steeled him for the disconcerting moment when blood seeped from the numbed slit in his hand. He remained fairly collected, waiting for the fretting Andorian attaché to retrieve a dermal regenerator and heal his wound. The instrument had swept right over his wound, and when he wiped the blood away, the skin underneath was smooth and unbroken.
Now, however, nineteen years later, comfortable living worked against him. The first few moments after he was stabbed were filled with sheer terror, watching his half-crazed wife flail the damned broken bottle around, then blessedly move away from him and dash out into the corridor like some rabid animal. It took him a few moments to comprehend that the danger from her was over. He was aware that his body was shaking, his hand clenching convulsively over the wound in his abdomen. He raised it slightly, saw thick red blood coating his skin, his fingers, and he gaped with disbelief, suddenly feeling light-headed. This couldn't be happening.
He tried to catch his breath, to focus his thoughts. His first impulse was to call Doctor Tondra, and a renewed fright surged through him when he remembered that he had left her on Earth. He cursed himself for leaving her behind, and he nearly followed the impulse to summon someone from the station medical bay, catching himself at the last minute. He couldn't exactly explain this to them, nor come up with a lie in his current state of mind. He had to call Empek. He needed Empek.
He sent the transmission, told him in a jagged voice that Janeway had attacked him, that he needed help. Mere seconds passed before the imposing, ashen-haired man barreled through his door into his quarters. Durant nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of his stalwart associate.
"Empek, I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding badly--" Durant began. He pulled his trembling fist up from the wound in his side to showcase it for his associate.
Empek's threw a cursory glance at Durant's wound, but focused instead on stalking around the quarters, reminding Durant of a restless tiger. "Computer, locate Admiral Janeway."
"Admiral Janeway's location is unknown."
Empek whirled on him. "Where's Janeway?"
"You're worried about Janeway?" Durant sputtered incredulously, the absurdity registering through his mounting sense of panic. "I've been stabbed, Empek--"
Empek shot him a withering look. "You have a flesh wound, Admiral Durant. I could see that with one glance. Were it anything more, you would be doubled over on the floor, half-conscious and bleeding profusely." He took a step closer to Durant, and asked, "Where is Janeway?"
Disconcerted... "She-- that bitch, the bitch stabbed me... I'll kill her--" Durant rasped, enraged, distraught. She'd nearly given him a heart attack. The bitch was crazed. He truly believed for a few moments there that she was going to kill him. She was insane--
"Yes, she did, and she will pay accordingly later. What I want to know is-- where is she now?"
Durant looked up sharply, suddenly realizing that he'd given no thought to her, that he hadn't even considered what she might have done once she fled. He suddenly felt sick with dread.
"I don't know. She ran out into the corridor."
An unreadable look darted across Empek's face, then he lanced over with inhuman speed, grasped Durant's arm, and yanked him towards the door. "Is she contacting station security? We must--"
"Ow, shit!" Durant winced away, hissing at the sudden pain his movement aroused. He clamped his hand to his side, over the searing wound. He saw that Empek would spare him no breathing room, and sought to reassure him. "No, no," Durant said, "No, it's okay. I gave her something-- a sedative. She's got to be out of it by now. She'll be unconscious; she can't talk to anyone. We're okay. We can just find her. She won't be far."
He could see that his words failed to reassure Empek, and he disliked the dubious look on the larger man's normally impassive face as they walked out into the corridor to search.
After prowling up and down the hall, inquiring at the nearby crew quarters with no results, Durant grew increasingly agitated. The situation was out of control. It had just spun out of control. What the hell had she been thinking? Didn't she know--
Empek abruptly shuffled him back into his own quarters, turned on him, grasped Durant by the arm and jerked him face to face, within centimeters of his dark gaze. "What happened?"
Durant was unsettled. "Is this really the time--"
Empek's tone was unyielding. "The specifics, Admiral!"
Durant took a breath. He would have preferred to leave Empek out of this. Damn Janeway... "I gave her something, a drug--"
"What drug?"
Durant pulled slightly back out of Empek's grasp. "Nerium. And she--"
"Nerium's an illegal substance," Empek said intently, suddenly gripping Durant again. "And I did not acquire it for you."
Durant suddenly shook his head, agitated. This was ridiculous. Precious time was going by. "We're wasting our time. We should go to--"
"How did you get your hands upon Nerium, Admiral?" Empek demanded in a cold voice that reminded Durant of Empek's frequent interrogations of Janeway.
Durant felt more than a little put off that this petty thug would dare raise that tone with him, and his voice was hard and belligerent as he began, "On the station promenade, there was a man who had some in stock--"
"You went to a small time drug dealer on a Starfleet space station? A station equipped with security cameras, security personnel, and a thousand people who will more likely than not recognize you?" Empek's voice was lower than usual, a strange look in his eyes.
"He wasn't the type who'd know me, I didn't see--"
His words died on his lips as Empek took a step impossibly closer, and Durant was suddenly unsettlingly aware of how much larger, how much stronger the other man was. He vividly remembered Empek twisting Janeway's arm like it was putty--
"That was the single most foolish thing you could have done, Admiral," Empek's voice was deadly soft.
Durant wasn't sure what to say. Empek stepped back, allowing Durant space to breathe.
As Durant struggled to collect himself, Empek censured, "The Orion Syndicate put forth a significant investment in you, Admiral. The Syndicate expects you to fulfill our expectations, but instead of taking our generous investment into consideration, you risked squandering it by purchasing an illegal substance from a narcotics dealer. Do you realize what would have happened had you been caught? Do you realize that you gambled everything we have worked for-- and for what? Nerium? Why did you need it?"
Durant didn't answer, but he didn't have to. The perceptive Empek's voice was colored by not a little contempt.
"You feared subduing a woman half your strength, half your weight." At Durant's look, he said, "Oh, yes, Admiral, I know quite a bit more than you might think. You were not brave enough to take her in a direct confrontation, or humble enough to request my assistance, so you played the fool and put all of us in jeopardy."
"Empek--"
"Do you realize what I have to do now, Admiral?" Empek continued implacably. "I have to order a hit upon whatever narcotics dealer sold you the Nerium, and upon whomever he might have spoken with since the time you gave him your business. I have to order the obliteration of station security recordings in the promenade, and the execution of any passer Byers who possibly saw your transaction. I have to exterminate anyone who might have seen Admiral Janeway since she escaped, and I have to send people under the pretense of illness to the medical bay to intercept her should anyone find her and discover the Nerium in her bloodstream.
"Additionally, I will either have to run a bio signature scan of the entire station-- which could take hours-- in order to locate Admiral Janeway. That procedure often meets little success, and failing that I will need to analyze station security logs to track her movement, which will again require great time and effort in the theft of station security codes and the hacking of the system. On top of all this, I have to figure out why, exactly, the main computer cannot get a fix on Janeway's location, and even with all these precautions, we could run into additional problems... For example, should someone of dubious intent come across your wife-- incapacitated and alone-- recognize her, and choose to exploit her weakness for profit or other ill-design; that would be a grave scenario. I may have to bribe countless officials to avoid investigation once I finish this damage control... Do you understand now the situation you have put me in?"
Durant was angry now at the other man's unwarranted criticism.
"If you have so very much work to do, Empek," Durant said coldly, "I suggest you shut the hell up and get started."
"What did you say to me?"
A look-- was it rage, contempt, malice?-- flickered across the other man's normally empty black eyes, and suddenly Durant's courage faltered, and he dreadfully regretted the rash remark.
Durant took a steadying breath. "I apologize, Empek. You're right, I put you in a bad situation, and I apologize for bringing this all about. Know I have full confidence in you," Durant tried to force the easy tone of authority back into his voice. "I wouldn't have anyone else do this for me--"
"I am not doing this for you," Empek countered softly, an ominous light gleaming in his eyes. "Perhaps, Admiral, you overstep your bounds because you fail to recognize that the Syndicate does not work for you; I do not work for you."
Empek took a step closer to Durant, towering over him.
"You, Admiral Durant," he said softly, "work for us. And it could prove very unfortunate for you if you forget that."
At that moment, Empek's expression and voice, cold as ice, inspired in Durant the same cold fear he was used to seeing in his wife. He was trained enough to steel his facial expression into neutrality, but Empek must have smelled his terror. The knowing look in the other man's eyes told Durant that any attempt to hide it was futile.
Empek turned then, glided soundlessly out the door and vanished around the bend of the corridor.
Durant stood there a long moment. He became aware of a renewed throbbing of his wound-- a flesh wound, he recalled with not a little resentment, and he headed back into the guest bedroom to hunt for a dermal regenerator.
It was difficult to heal his wound. The hand clutching the dermal regenerator was trembling too violently for precision.
* * *
Almost an hour had passed. Chakotay sent a few coded transmissions, Janeway remained silent. Then, she suddenly spoke from behind him, "It's a classified mission."
Chakotay smiled skeptically to himself; he'd been wondering how long it would take her to resort to lying. "Oh?"
She nodded, leaning forward enthusiastically. "It's not something I was supposed to tell. You see, Admiral Durant-- you're right, I don't love him. It was business, but Admiral Durant-- you see, he's a Founder."
"Founder?"
"A changeling. Yes. But you see, ever since the treaty with the Dominion was signed, the Founders have been staying clear of Starfleet, so we weren't entirely sure what--" She stopped, suddenly catching the fundamental flaw in her words that Chakotay had immediately spotted. Chakotay had seen Durant's blood on her tunic. Changelings didn't bleed.
She must have lost her story right then, because she tried to cover with a clumsy, "I mean-- Durant's a changeling, but you see, there's also the real Admiral Durant."
"Of course. The real Admiral Durant," Chakotay murmured tonelessly.
"The changeling doesn't know he's alive, but he and I are working together to stop the changeling. And sometimes the changeling's Empek."
"You mean, the changeling doesn't only impersonate one person?" Chakotay said innocently.
She forged on, "I accidentally stabbed him, Durant I mean, because I thought he was the changeling--"
"And we all know how much it hurts a formless goo to have a sharp instrument plunged into it," Chakotay said, smiling.
She didn't even listen to him. "I made the mistake because I was in my quarters and somewhat disoriented. See, earlier-- oh, I completely forgot to tell you-- I accidentally took Nerium when I meant to take a painkiller for a headache I had. Oh, and Durant..."
She trailed off; Chakotay was laughing outright now. "Dear God, Kathryn, you used to lie better than that."
Janeway faltered, then grew angry. "You're not even hearing me out. I'm not lying."
"You can't even decide who the changeling is!" Chakotay exclaimed. "And you 'accidentally' took Nerium? What-- it was just lying around for you? I can't believe that's the best you can come up with."
After a frustrated silence, Janeway scowled fiercely and hissed, "Let's see you do better."
He was still chuckling when she whirled away once again.
* * *
"Commander Chakotay," Empek reported nearly twenty hours after Janeway's flight.
Durant looked up in surprise, still clutching the reassuring hand of the just-arrived Doctor Tondra in his own. "Chakotay? That can't be. We stopped by his quarters--"
"--But we failed to search them. He took Janeway off the station," Empek intoned. "He beamed her onto his ship and departed. Her bio signature leads directly to his door, and the transporter logs confirm that her pattern dematerialized from his room."
Durant took a breath, thinking over the situation. He'd had almost a day to regain his composure, his center, and he felt more in charge of the situation now than before. He was clear-headed enough to think, and he was very intent on solving this mystery before Empek.
"Chakotay. Why? She despises him..." Durant murmured.
Empek leaned closer to him, his eyes narrowed. "I pointed out to you months ago, Admiral, that many of Janeway's log entries, especially concerning the Commander, had been altered and doctored. You failed to deal her an adequate punishment. I could have extracted the truth from her, had you permitted it. She could easily have--"
"No!" Durant interrupted, his voice firm, angry again. "Empek, I know for a fact that the woman hates him."
She couldn't have fooled him; he knew her, damn it... There was no way she could have lied to his face about that for two years straight. He was a good judge of character, especially when it came to her. He owned that woman; he knew every emotion that flickered in her eyes, he could decipher every facial expression, every fluxuation in her tone. He knew when she was lying. He would never believe that she was capable of pulling the wool so completely over his eyes. He couldn't believe it.
"Nabusha," Durant said suddenly, glancing over at Doctor Tondra, "If she was dosed up on 20 mg of Nerium, how long could she have remained coherent?"
Tondra looked at him with impassive, dark eyes. "I'm surprised she remained clear-headed enough to run down the corridor, much less coherent enough to plot escape with Commander Chakotay." A pause. "If you gentlemen don't mind my saying, I believe it is sharply out of character for Janeway to flee like this. She knows the consequences; she's never displayed such a horrendous lapse in judgment before. It's true that the Nerium clouded her thought process-- hence the attack on you, John... But she would never have attempted escape. I find it difficult to believe she would flee the station intentionally."
"What are you suggesting?" Durant asked quietly.
Tondra raised a sharp eyebrow. "I wouldn't presume to suggest anything, Admiral. I'm simply elucidating my opinion of the matter."
"I think you are implying something," Durant said with a bit of a smile. "And I was thinking the same thing. You think... maybe she was kidnapped?"
"Doubtful," Empek scoffed with an infuriatingly casual disregard for their intellectual prowess.
Durant ignored him. "Think about it!" He looked over at Doctor Tondra, grateful that at least she seemed receptive of his words. "Chakotay-- a man in love... Empek, you saw those logs, you saw that he cared about her. He was a man scorned, and last night, he may have walked out into the corridor, or heard some commotion, and found her right there, unconscious. The man was a criminal, we all know that... he has a history of disregarding ethical considerations; he may have found her there, and after two trying days of seeing his love cavorting with her husband, he simply snapped. Then and there, he decided to grab her. It's the perfect opportunity--"
"I don't find this assumption in character with Command Chakotay in the least," Empek cut in. "He displayed a good deal of fondness for her in his logs, true, but he was not a violent--"
"You're talking about a Maquis terrorist, for God's sake!" Durant exclaimed harshly. "How can you say he's not a violent man? A man who can quit Starfleet to butcher people over some perceived grievance won't quail at kidnapping one woman. If he's in love-- no, if he's fixated on her, and he has absolutely no way to win her affections--"
"Janeway did seem unusually ill-disposed towards the man," Tondra chimed in thoughtfully.
"--And what would stop him? Nothing! You did say," he said looking over at Tondra, "That there was a very slim chance she could have remained coherent long enough to even speak with him. She didn't plot an escape with him because she wasn't capable of plotting with him."
Even with Empek's characteristic lack of expression, Durant could tell he remained skeptical.
"Empek--" Durant admonished, looking intently at the other man to draw his attention. "Look at the facts. He loves her. She hates him. She's married to another man. He must have been jealous. Violently jealous. He has a violent past. She was incapacitated and literally lying at his doorstep. He kidnapped her; it's the only explanation that makes sense."
"Why did Janeway seek out Chakotay's quarters, then?" Empek demanded.
"He was right down the corridor. She was running, she collapsed, and by sheer coincidence, she landed there."
"And Janeway's doctored logs?" Empek inquired dubiously.
"Maybe she was protecting him," Durant said. "What if he displayed this type of behavior on Voyager? It's not impossible to consider. She was certainly concerned with protecting the Maquis when Voyager returned; perhaps she believed that casting Chakotay in a favorable light would go very far towards helping the entire Maquis crew. She could have doctored the entries to cover up for any misconduct on his part simply to protect her crew in the court of public opinion."
"It seems to me, Admiral Durant, that you're stretching," Empek said tonelessly.
"Then what do you believe, Empek?" he asked. "That she's in league with the man? That they planned this all along?"
Empek hesitated, then, "No." A pause. "I am uncertain what to believe. But this... explanation sounds too simplistic. It does not feel right."
"Well frankly, Empek, I don't give a damn how it feels to you," Durant snapped, feeling emboldened by Doctor Tondra's presence by his side. "I think this is the truth, and I want to operate under that assumption. And you can quote me to your boss."
Empek's eyes were cold and hard on him. "Very well. We will find out which of us is correct once we apprehend the Admiral."
"If we do find her," Durant said spitefully. "You've just been sitting around here. What the hell do I need you guys for if you're not going to look for her?"
Empek seemed slightly defensive as he replied, "The Syndicate is already moving to locate Admiral Janeway and Commander Chakotay. His itinerary indicates that his course is set for Talus IV; if we do not intercept him en route, there will be people waiting planet side for him. We will apprehend them, Admiral."
"And what if you don't? He's probably changed his itinerary."
"There is always the chance that he'll evade us for a longer period of time than is desirable," Empek admitted. "But he cannot hide forever. And if we encounter this scenario, you will have to provide some public explanation to account for Admiral Janeway's absence."
Durant thought it over a moment. "Maybe... maybe we can tell them the truth."
Tondra looked over at him curiously. "John?"
"She was kidnapped," Durant said, a shadow of a smile on his lips. "Drugged and kidnapped by a lovelorn former member of her crew. I, her loving husband, valiantly attempted to intervene, and I was viciously stabbed for my efforts." He looked between the other two smugly. "How is that for PR? We won't have to spend a day campaigning; every news agency will follow Admiral Jonathan Durant-- the grieving, yet dignified husband who put his very life on the line for the sake of his beloved wife. A family man, a soldier. It's practically a fairy tale. Jesus, the sympathy vote alone could give me a majority."
Empek was scowling. "I don't like it. It could grow complicated, especially once Admiral Janeway is located. There will be intense investigation. There are too many potential problems--"
"They're going to find out she's missing anyway, Empek, whether we like it or not," Durant's voice was vaguely patronizing. "There's an opportunity here, and opportunity I will not miss. Don't you understand-- this could be the trick. This single act, if we play it right, could hand me the presidency." He leaned towards Empek. "Think of your investment. Think of how displeased your superiors would be if you passed up such a golden opportunity."
Empek clearly did not take kindly to Durant's attempt to hound him. He said in an icy voice, "My superiors will also not take it kindly if I let you take a foolish risk and you fail. You are already faring well in the polls--"
"Forty-three percent," Durant snapped. "Even if Sovar loses votes to McGregor, assuming he'll even run, I won't have a mandate with forty-three percent. I can't get my reforms through if I don't have a landslide victory, and unlike you guys, I'm not in politics just for the power."
"If this goes badly," Empek warned, "My superiors will be very displeased with me, and if that happens, I will be very displeased with you."
Durant suddenly hated this man, this idiot who believed he understood better than him how to run his game. John Durant was top of his class at the academy, a captain at thirty-two, an Admiral just ten years later. He was doing the Orion Syndicate a favor by allowing them a chance at true influence in the Federation. This bastard who could do little more than twist some arms would realize very quickly that he'd underestimated Jonathan Durant.
"You'll see, Empek. The day I take office, I want to hear you repeat all the reasons why this decision was a mistake. By then, you'll have realized exactly how wrong you are."
"If that day comes," Empek said quietly, "Then I assure you, I will own up to my mistakes. My judgement is not clouded by misplaced pride."
With those words, the conversation was abruptly terminated.
Empek chose the time to leave, and Durant began to mull over a few private thoughts. He smiled at one point with some hidden knowledge. His abrupt shift in mood seemed to surprise Tondra, and her lips quirked into a slight smile of her owm.
"You seem fairly cheerful," she noted. "You are that confident this will succeed?"
"Well, yes I'm confident about it... but I was actually thinking of something else entirely," Durant replied smoothly, rising to his feet to grab a drink from the counter.
"Something else?"
"Or should I say, someone else." He clutched his Saurian Brandy and gazed out the view port into space. His expression was suddenly sinister, his eyes glittering. "I've been contemplating just what to do with my wayward wife, once I get my hands on her." Unconsciously fingering the spot of his recent injury, he looked darkly towards the bedroom, and his lips twisted into a queer, unsettling smile. "Oh, but she'll regret it." He nodded to himself, raising the bottle to his lips, and muttered quietly, "God help me, I'll make her regret it."
