Title: Divided
Author: SisterPet
Pairing: C&T
Rating: G for now.  R later.
Disclaimer: I don't own them

Summary: Shortly after season five's Extreme Risk. Chakotay and Torres are separated from Voyager and thrown into an adventure.

Thank you very much to everyone for the encouraging reviews.  My sister finally managed to beta another chapter! – enjoy!

Part 4

B'Elanna drifted slowly back from the clouds, purring like a giant cat. The large body sprawled on top of her shook with laughter, lifting himself up onto his elbows, Chakotay grinned at the dazed wonder on her face.

"You sound like a lion." He murmured.

Trying to move, she found that her hands were still trapped in one of his above her head.  "Are you going to let me up?" She asked, trying to tug free.

Chakotay tightened his hold. "No. I'm sorry, I just can't do that." he murmured as his lips descended on hers. 

Nibbling and tasting, he explored every curve and dip with a single-minded thoroughness that left her hot and aching.  Tearing her hands loose she drove them into his hair, deepening the kiss, while his wonderfully clever fingers found her breasts.

"Again?"  She whispered in astonished wonder.

"And again and again. " He growled, thrusting his hips forward and propelled her to new heights of ecstasy.

It was dark before they managed to sneak back to their cabin.  B'Elanna dropped exhausted onto the bunk, eyeing him with awe and a new respect.

"If I have one more orgasm it will kill me." She thought to herself with a happy grin.

Her body ached in unmentionable places yet she could not stop the growl of appreciation as he stripped and stepped into the sonic shower. His body, the most incredible thing she had ever seen, powerful muscles rippled under smooth almost hairless skin. Chakotay noticed her watching him through the open door and a purely predatory grin settled on his face.

"You're welcome to join me." He offered in a husky voice.

"I doubt my legs would hold me up." B'Elanna laughed, more than half serious. "I guess Megan Delaney was not exaggerating."

Chakotay's head swung around in surprise, a flush of embarrassment tinting his skin.  B'Elanna couldn't help the laughter that gurgled out of her throat.

"Megan Delaney?"

"Yep." She said, deadpan. " She told me that you managed to satisfy both her and her sister in one night.  It made you quite a legend on the ship."

"The whole ship knew? You people could not have had enough work to do." He complained, turning his back to her.

"Why Commander, I do believe you're blushing… all over."

He was on her in two steps.  In moments she was too busy being ravaged to think, let alone talk. The savage was back and she welcomed him joyfully.

Warm passion rippled through her.  She was swimming in a sea of sensual pleasure, hands holding her, fondling her.  A strong hard body against her back, the line between dream and waking faded and became one. Instinct pressed her closer to him. He moved away slightly and she murmured fretfully, until she felt a stab of heat as the warmth returned.  A hardness filled her softly, slowly.  The pleasure increased and built and she responded by pressing herself closer.  Still it built up and grew until it was almost pain, an intense wonderful pain.  For one indescribable nanosecond she was on the brink before the sun blew up inside her, sending wave after endless wave of white-hot heat through her. Her body was still pulsating when she turned to him and they grinned at each other like fools.

"Good morning Commander." B'Elanna smiled.

"Good morning Lieutenant," Chakotay dropped a kiss on one puckered nipple, "you're out of uniform.  I think I will have to take disciplinary action."

Then with a wicked smile and a sigh "But, that will have to wait, we have work to do."

"I can't wait." She growled. 

Of course, since they shared a shower, she was very thoroughly 'disciplined' and loved it.  The man had an incredibly erotic imagination.

The fence was complete, as was the defence shield.  They worked faster and in unison, their minds as one. Though there were many hot burning looks exchanged, neither trusted themselves to touch the other.

"Is the shield generator from the ship up and running?" Chakotay asked, as he watched the huge gate being bound into place.

"Yes, we'll have shields ten meters around the outer perimeter in the front.  I just don't know how long."

"Long enough I hope. Now comes the hard part, we have to start training these people into some sort of defence army."

B'Elanna watched the happy fun loving villagers around, sadly shaking her head.

"They are so innocent, I hate having to teach them to kill."

"Not to kill B'Elanna, to defend.  Themselves and their homes.  The Borg are not going to give up."

He hesitated, gearing himself up to what he knew was coming.

"I want you to start teaching them basic self defence. Target training with the phasers and hand to hand. The watch groups in the forest are our first and only warning."

B'Elanna eyed him suspiciously.

"And you will be doing?"

Sighing, Chakotay took her arm and moved toward their cabin.  He knew sparks were about to fly.

"I am going back over the mountain. I can't sit here and wait for them to attack."

B'Elanna rounded on him angrily.

"Oh, so how exactly is climbing free hand over a mountain going to help us?"

"It will give us a better idea what they are up to.  Are they preparing for a fight?  Are they aware of our existence here?  I need to watch them for a few days get to know as much about them as is possible."

"And if you get captured?  Chakotay, how is that going to help us if we loose you?  How are we going to rescue you?  You're the only one who knows where they are." She shouted, shoving him back with every word.

Chakotay grasped her hands, bringing them up against his chest. B'Elanna tore out of his grasp and stepped back.

"You are not going, I won't let you." She stated desperately, fear for him driving her on.

"B'Elanna, I outrank you." He reminded her gently, then with a steely look.  "Now we both know I am going. Get over it."

She came at him with a speed that was blinding.  He didn't see the blow that sent him staggering or the teeth that closed over his cheek and bit, but he felt the pain. B'Elanna jumped back, the taste of his blood filled her mouth and she knew it would be a taste she would never forget.  He was hers now.

"Don't you pull rank on me, not after last night!  You were not wearing a uniform then and I won't let you hide behind it now. You belong to me now, I have tasted your blood and I have given you my mark.  All the rank in the world will not help you there, so face me like a man!"

Some instinct deep within him roared to life and he welcomed it. Letting it drive him, he barrelled into her and sent them both crashing onto the ground. With grunts and colourful curses they fought and wrestled across the floor sending the table and chairs crashing down.  In skill they were evenly matched but he out weighed her.  In the end she lay beneath him, arms pinned above her head, legs clamped between his.

"We have been here before." She cursed him.

Chakotay glared down at her.  Hooking a hand in her shirt he tore it down the middle.  His mouth swooped down and B'Elanna arched up anticipating him, instinctively giving him access, but he ignored the dusky tip.  Closing his mouth over the upper curve he sank his teeth hard into the soft flesh.  Blood ran over his tongue.  B'Elanna screamed, fighting harder but he held her fast.

"Now we're even. You belonged to me the moment I touched you. This is just to confirm it in a way the Klingon part of you will understand."

Looking into her eyes, he gentled his hold and dropped a soft kiss on her stunned mouth.  He rose off her slowly, watching her carefully just in case she tried to break his neck.

"I have to go. Whether we like it or not, it's something that has to be done.  We know far too little about these Borg to be able to anticipate them and if we are to survive, we need to be able at least to do that."

She took the offered hand up, shocked and subdued, rose to stand before him. The pain in her breast dulled to a throb. Chakotay took the dermal regenerator and started running it over the wound. She grasped his hand, stopping it before it healed completely.

"I want to keep the scar. You must know enough Klingon to know what this means." She asked carefully.

"Yes I do.  On Klingon we would be mates. Here though, let's call it engaged."

Kissing her soundly, he put the regenerator back in its place.

"I have to go or I never will." He groaned.

B'Elanna grasped his face and fused her mouth to his.  His thoughts clouded and he drowned in her essences.  When she drew back they were both stunned and dazed.

"That should keep you warm up in those mountains." She whispered as she turned and walked out, leaving him gaping after her in a passionate haze.

"Keep me warm? That will have melted snow for the next 200 miles." He groaned.

It was man against mountain again.  Though this time the going was a little harder, the pack was heavier and it was getting distinctively cooler the higher he got.  Winter was coming in fast.

At the top he found his previous campsite and, after checking up on the Borg, he set up the place that would be home for the next week or so.  Thoughts of B'Elanna drifted through his mind.  He missed her already and it had only been a few hours.  Rubbing his fingers over the scar on his cheek, he found himself grinning like a fool.  Rubbing that scar would be something he would do every time he thought of her, and he thought of her often.  While he was recording the Borg movements and while he was eating.  His nights where filled with hot erotic images of her that woke him sweating and in agony.  Having her had not sated his hunger, now that he knew how it could be between them, the craving for her turned into a constant ache.  It did not take him long to realise that he was in love with her and he also knew that she was no where near ready to hear it.  She was still in love with someone else. 

Chakotay and Tom had spent many nights at Sandrine's and, though Tom seldom spoken about his private life with B'Elanna, he had once mentioned that he could not tell her that he loved her and that when she declared her feelings for him it made him uncomfortable.

Chakotay had thought at the time that sooner or later the relationship would burn itself out as the feelings seemed one sided.

His morning meal was interrupted by an explosion, the power and velocity throwing him back against the rock face.  Grasping his binoculars he dove for the nearest cover, convinced they had somehow sensed him and where shooting at his location.  When no more shots followed he carefully raised his head.  The one side of the cube that held the refinery was no more, as were the alcoves where they took turns in regenerating.  From what he could make out, something had set off the unstable dilithium.  As the drones moved around salvaging and pulling out parts, he realised that some of the parts were drone.  It looked like one of the drones had been standing too close but he could not figure what had made it go up.  He had studied it and found nothing to indicate that it was in danger of exploding. 

"I have to go down there and see what went wrong." He muttered to himself. 

In his time as part of a collective he had learnt much about them.  One of the things that he learnt was that it took their sensors a few minutes to detect a non threatening presence, other than their own.  He spent the rest of the day planning his route to the last detail.  One false move and he would be a dead man.

Studying the rock face below him he found what looked like a natural slide, as the left hand side of the plateau was pure ice that went up the side of the mountain, almost to where he was.  If he lowered a rope and stuck pylons along the way, he could be up and down in about 15 minutes.  It was also far enough away from the camp to be still undetectable.  He estimated that once in the camp he had about 3 minutes to get in and out.  Taking out the dark suite he had replicated, and the winter covering for his hands, he wound the rope around his body and filled the loops on his belt with pylons.  His time piece was set to give of a vibrating signal on his arm the minute his time was running out.  All he needed to do was activate it when he reached the outer parameter of the camp.  It was sundown when he was finally ready.

Looking down from the top of the ice slide, it seemed so much steeper than it had earlier.  Shooting in the first pylon, he fastened the rope and threw it down.  His night glasses helped him to see every bump and dip on the path.  Looping the rope around himself, he gingerly lowered himself to the ground and slid off.   He picked up speed too quickly as the ground was wet and slippery and the muscles in his arms stood out with the effort it took to stop his body weight.  He had marked in his mind the exact places the other pylons would need to go and he reached the first one, nearly overshooting it as gravity pulled at him.  Agony shot through him as the rope burned through his gloves but his motion was slowed and finally stopped.  Finding a minuscule hole, he wedged his foot in.

The next two pylons were easier as he found his rhythm, finding it better to lower himself down hand over hand.  It took nearly an hour before he reached the bottom, and another 10 minutes before his breathing and heart rate reached anywhere near normal.

Crouched near the ground, he scurried to the outer parameter of the camp.  From down here the crash site looked even worse than it had from above.  He saw, and smelled, the rotting remains of Drones that had all the mechanical parts striped from them and their biological remains left to decay.  Most of them had already been picked down to skeletons by scavengers.  Some of the carcasses were not as old as others, a sure indication that they were dying off at an alarming rate.

Setting his alarm, he picked his way slowly and deliberately towards the explosion site.  He moved as if he were one of them, the seconds ticking away in his head.  Yet he could not hurry, any sudden moves and he would draw attention to himself.  His eyes moved left and right, taking in everything around him, every small detail.  Something caught his attention and he moved over to it. It looked like the remains of a Drone but, unlike the other, on close examination his first impression had been correct.  It looked as if it had exploded from within its own body, the wounds and damage could be explained no other way.  Running his tricorder over it confirmed this.

A suspicion grew in his mind and he looked around him with a new awareness.  Small details, that had previously not meant anything to him, now took on a whole new, terrible meaning.  The closer he got to what was left of the refinery the more he realised just how dangerous the situation was.  He could smell the escaped gasses in the air around.  One good spark in the right place and the whole thing could go up.

The dilithium was refined down to its purest form and was being fed into the regeneration alcoves, powerful and dangerously unstable.  The Borg were feeding this pure substance into their mechanical bodies.  It worked, as long as no electrical current ignited the gasses that the pure substance secreted.  If one of their parts malfunctioned and sparked in the right place, they would explode, taking anything within a radius of about 10 feet with them.

The buzzer on his arm went off and, as he turned to walk back, he noticed a small puddle of liquid on the ground.  Using up his precious seconds to tear a piece off his clothing, he soaked it in the liquid and wrapped it up in a piece of Borg exterior plating.  His brain screamed for him to hurry, to run, but he moved calmly.  Every Borg that neared him was a possible threat and he expected an arm to grasp him from behind at any moment. Relief flooded through him as he reached safety.

Going up was hard.  He had no purchase for his feet so he had to use his arms to pull himself up.  At the top he crawled over to his camp and collapsed on the ground shuddering, his lungs burning as he drew in great gulping breaths.  Forgoing sleep that night, he recorded all his findings.  The liquid he had found turned out to be the dilithium and as he analysed it, he realised that it was every bit as bad as he had thought.  The next morning he went down again.  His scans around the surrounding showed the area rich in dilithium and, by the look of things, they were sitting on one of the biggest suppositories of the stuff.  But since they did not know how to extract it, they stole it from the villagers.

Over the next few days he made frequent trips down and moved around the camp.  Something else showed on his tricorder and whatever it was, it was huge and sitting frozen about 50 feet down in the middle of the ice.  However, before he could get clearer readings of it, the drones around him seemed to start moving with more purpose and he decided it was a good time to get out of there just in case they noticed him.  From the safety of the ledge he watched them, realising very quickly that the party of 20 odd drones were heading off to raid the village.  Since their supply of dilithium went up in flames, they need more.  He stayed just long enough to see just how well armed they would be and how many were going before, leaving everything except his rope, he headed back.  He realised to beat them back with enough time to be of any use, he had to go down dangerously fast.

B'Elanna watched as the rows of young men and women practised the routine defence moves she had taught them.  With a deep sigh she thought about Chakotay for about the millionth time over the last ten days.  The need burned inside her like a fever.  She missed him more with every night she lay in the bed longing for him.  His calm manner and wisdom would ease the nervous jitters.  She sensed something was about to happen, could almost smell it.

Her small army was as ready as she could make them yet she knew it would be far from enough.  They were enthusiastic and willing, their naturally limber bodies following the age old Klingon moves with ease.  But it was the fire in their bellies, the lust for battle, the yearning for blood that sang in her veins, that they lacked and no amount of practising would teach it to them.  She feared that in a confrontation with killer Borg, they would be as helpless as babies.  The phasers she had managed to replicate would help, but there were only a few of them.

The force field was ready.  The wall and the gate were in place, along with a few Marquis surprises she had prepared further in the forest.  The people hunted with a form of bow and arrow as well as slingshot and stone, which was a bonus since they were very good shots.  She had modified the arrows with parts of the shuttle she had ruthlessly hacked up, and it had not taken the archers long to get used to the extra weight of the arrowheads.  A scaffold now stood on the inside of the wall, to just about a meter under it.  From it they could shoot down from the top while still reasonably protected.  Concentrating the main units on either side of the gate where the last attack had come from, she knew enough Borg to know that they would have no reason to change their attack protocol.

The phasers went to only the best shots, knowing that they would have to do as much damage with the first few shots as possible before their shields adjusted, and the phasers became useless.  She hoped that the body shields would not be able to protect them from the arrows and metal balls.  Now, as she watched, the fear that often overwhelmed her at night fought its way to the surface.  Where was he?  Why had he not returned?  He had said a week and it had been three days past that.  B'Elanna knew if anything happened to him, it would be the end of her.  She would not survive his loss.  Over the last few days she had come to realise that what she had with him would, and had always been the most incredible and wonderful thing in her life.  It scared and yet excited her.

A distant sound reached her, she looked up tensed.

"B'Elanna someone is coming." York shouted down from the scaffolding beside the gate.

She sprang up, grasping her phaser.

"Sound the alarm, everyone to his or her stations.  As soon as everyone is in close the door!"  She shouted as she ran for the platform she had singled out for herself.

It stood right in line with the path that ran out of the woods.  York blew on the wooden flute and the sound echoed through the forest.  Those that were outside would make their way back as fast as possible, while the elderly and the children ran to their hidden tunnels.

"Quickly people!  Move move move!" she urged.

Everyone knew the drill, they had practised it twice a day down to the last minute, every detail was etched into their minds.  In no time at all, everyone was in place.  The rock was lowered and the gate was closed.  The archers were in place, their back-ups right below them.

She watched the trees ahead unblinking, phaser ready and set to kill.  The figure that emerged moved slowly, arms raised.  B'Elanna gave a cry and, in a movement of unbelievable grace, she flew over the top of the wall, landing cat like on the other side in full run.

Chakotay watched her warily, he had no idea if she was going to attack him again or welcome him.  She jumped on him, legs and arms locked around him, her mouth fused to his in a kiss that burned his blood and left him trembling with the effort it took to hold himself in check.  He knew there was no time.  Moving, with her clutched to him, he strode through the now open gate.

"B'Elanna they are coming!  A party of twenty is right behind me." He said as she slid down. 

Instantly alert, she nodded and signalled York to sound the final alarm.  Chakotay spent the next few moments briefing her on the new danger the drones posed.  They both looked at the wall in a new light, it was strong, but neither could predict if it was strong enough against an explosion of the magnitude that he described.  He walked the parameter, admiring her handy work.  She was not only a good starship engineer as what he saw filled him once again with pride and awe.  This woman was capable of making the most impossible happen.  He moved over to where she was commanding her troops.

"Can I see you for a moment?" He asked politely, already leading her out of earshot.

"How do they look?"

 B'Elanna did not need him to explain what he meant.

"What they lack in skill they make up for in enthusiasm.  But they are not killers, Chakotay they just don't have it in them. They hunt for food but to kill another being?  I really don't know."

Chakotay watched them preparing and shook his head.

"I think they will surprise you. These people are defending their homes and loved ones. There is no one and nothing more deadly than a man protecting his family."  B'Elanna raised an eyebrow.

"Or woman." she added with a small grin. 

He frowned.  For the first time in their relationship he feared for her safety.  Instinctively, he wanted her in the tunnels with the others but he knew if he suggested it, or even hinted at it, she would rip out his liver and feed it to him raw.

The second alarm sounded form within the forest.  The waiting was over. 

Grasping her up he crushed his lips down on hers, pouring everything into that one kiss.  The blood ran out of her head and she felt her world spin on its axis.  She stumbled and fought for balance when he released her moments later.

"One more thing for you to think about.  I love you. I intend to build a life with you and have children with you, and then grow old beside you.  I am not asking you B'Elanna, I am telling you so be prepared.  When this is over we begin our life together." 

While she stood there, still too stunned to do more than gape, he tossed her a cheeky grin over his shoulder and hoisted himself up to his station on the opposite side of the gate to hers.

It was only when York called anxiously down to her that she snapped out of it.

"You have either a very twisted sense of humour, or a death wish, telling me something like that just before a battle!" She shouted at him hotly as she climbed the tower.

Whatever his reply would have been was drowned out by the explosion that came from within the forest, followed by another and another.  B'Elanna's traps had found their targets.  From his vantage point, Chakotay could make out the first few Borg.  They were less four already, obviously damaged by the traps.  Another stepped on a trap and the spiked log that impaled him also carried his neighbour.  Six less, the others seemed not to notice or care.  They paid no attention even when, in a fiery display of sparks and smoke, they both self-destructed.   B'Elanna frowned over at Chakotay, she had not quite grasped the impact of what he had told her until this moment.  It meant that hand-to-hand combat was impossible.  They had to hit them from a distance, anything closer than 10 feet would be lethal.

"Make each shot count." He shouted to the archers who were watching in horror.

The remaining Drones walked forward unhesitant, neither surprised nor concerned by the wall that now stood there, as if it was too insignificant to bother with.  The first of them hit the force field and exploded, followed by another.  The archers brought down another three.   Two of them exploded, the third slumped to the ground in one piece.  The next one managed to walk through the shields.  They had adapted.  B'Elanna's phaser shot hit him straight in the face and the explosion that followed threw debris around like bullets.  The archer next to her howled in pain and flew backward off the scaffolding.  She did not even look at him, knowing the people below would tend to him.

The closer they got the more damage the explosions caused.  Since they were now inside, the shield perimeter would not help them.  The wall was holding off the worst of the shrapnel but still people were being hit with it.  Chakotay grasped the wall in front of him as another blast rocked the world.

"The shields are our only hope!  If one of them gets too close to the wall, it won't hold without shields!" He shouted.

"The modulators have to be moved closer to the wall and reset." B'Elanna called back.

Before she could move herself, he was over the wall and, in a crouching run, heading for the farthest one. 

With her heartbeat in her throat, she concentrated on the remaining Drones.  Another went down without exploding, an arrow pierced through his throat.

The other Drones did not notice him, they seemed intent on getting to the wall.  Chakotay managed to move the first two modulators and was heading for the third and last, when her warning shout froze him.  He angled his head, using his peripheral vision he saw one heading to him.  This one had no hands but vicious looking metal claws that were moving towards his neck.

"Too damn close." He muttered, even as he moved into action. 

Ducking his head he swivelled around and barrelled into the drone, flinging them both onto the ground.  He was up in nanoseconds, knowing he had no choice but to fight him hand to hand.  The shield modulator behind him was in place and active, he could not get back that way now. 

The drone was already on its feet and moving in on him swinging, those lethal arms.  Another explosion close by shook the ground around him and he fell back heavily.  It saved his life, as a piece of red hot smoking metal flew over his head and decapitated his attacker.

As it stood there smoking and sparking, he realised he had mere seconds.  Flipping to his feet, he swung his body full circle.  His leg shot out and caught the walking bomb mid-chest. .The jar of bone meeting metal flung both of them back in opposite directions.  The drone stumbled back into another behind him.  The closer they got to the wall, the more they were bunched together.  Three of them went off at the same time.  The eruption caused massive damage and for about twenty feet around the trees were torn out of the ground.  The wall, shuddered and pitted full of holes, held.

Chakotay's last thought was that B'Elanna was going to etch a new tattoo on his face.  The imprint of her fist. 

To be continued…