Hi readers! How am I doing so far? I hope so far so good. Ready for more? Here we go…

Acting Captain's Personal Log

It's been a week since we left Virocan space, and I find myself in a quandary. Do I continue on our journey to the Alpha Quadrant, or do I violate my superior officer's direct order and rescue her?

Voyager has remained outside of Virocan space. I have been biding time by making B'Elanna and the engineering staff run diagnostics on the ship's propulsion systems before we make for home.

Really…I've been hoping that this time would buy us something…some clue…some hint to get our captain back.

B'Elanna knows that. Everyone knows that.

The thought has occurred to me (more than once, if I'm truthful) that I am…was…a Maquis captain. I could disregard Federation rules and throw caution to the wind…just to get her back.

I doubt there would be many in the crew who would disagree with me. Commander Tuvok perhaps?

But I know one person who would - Captain Janeway.

Six years ago, she decided that this vessel would continue to remain a Starfleet ship and continue to uphold Federation principles, even if that meant spending more time in the Delta Quadrant.

I will not disappoint Kathryn. I will not neglect my duty to the ideals she held in such high regard.

I am an acting Starfleet captain of a Starfleet vessel.

And it's been the hardest job of my life.

I don't want to be acting captain.

I just want to be her first officer.

…

Chakotay's Quarters

Chakotay just finished his latest entry from his personal log. He stared out his window at the stars. He had too many difficult choices ahead - none of which he ever anticipated making.

His door chimed, opening to reveal Tuvok.

"Commander?" Chakotary motioned for the Vulcan to enter. "What can I do for you?"

"I am wondering," Tuvok began, "as to what your plans are going forward. You are now captain, and the task has fallen onto your shoulders of deciding when we resume our course for the Alpha Quadrant.

Chakotay winced momentarily after hearing captain. Trust a Vulcan to put it so bluntly, he thought to himself. "When all the diagnostics have been run," Chakotay replied.

"Forgive me, sir," Tuvok began, "but it appears to me that all tests have been complete, and the ship is functioning within optimal parameters."

"I know," Chakotay breathed, smoothing his hands over his head. "I guess there are no more excuses," he eyed Tuvok.

"I have often noted that members of the crew often provide pretexts when they do not want to face the task in front of them," the Vulcan replied. He looked at Chakotay, watching the man carefully for his response. "As your acting First Officer, it is my responsibility to provide you counsel when you require it. You and the crew have had an emotional response to leaving the captain behind on Viroca. I too am not immune to what has happened. Nevertheless, I will endeavor to assist you, Chakotay."

Chakotay gazed out of his window, then looked at the Commander. He breathed deeply. "Is it so obvious that I need direction?"

"Yes," replied the Vulcan, "but that is not unexpected when facing a difficult task."

"So, what's your advice?" Chakotay asked as he sat down at his desk.

"I observed when you advised Captain Janeway that you would often reassure her that she was not alone. The same applies to you, Captain. You are not alone in this journey."

"Thank you, Tuvok," Chakotay replied, meeting the Vulcan's eyes.

"That being said, I understand it is hard to navigate the way ahead when one is attempting to overcome an emotional attachment." Tuvok proceeded tactfully.

"Emotional attachment?" Chakotay cocked a brow.

"Yes," Tuvok affirmed. "Your emotional attachment to Kathryn Janeway. I have noticed over the years that you are fond of her."

Chakotay stared at his colleague for a minute. Truthfully, he was floored. Tuvok's candid observation had laid bare what Chakotay had tried to secret away.

Chakotay swallowed hard.

"It is, therefore, not hard to fathom why you have not left," said the Vulcan directly. "And neither I nor the crew can fault you."

"Come again?" He never imagined having this conversation with Tuvok of all people.

Tuvok eyed the younger man. "We all want the Captain back. I unfortunately failed in my defense at the tribunal, and so I request that I be allowed to stay behind." He handed Chakotay a data pad. "My formal appeal, sir."

It was Chakotay's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I have no desire to lose you as well Commander," Chakotay admitted he read Tuvok's petition.

"On the contrary, I have no desire to be lost," the Vulcan replied, "I will require a shuttle, a tricorder, and access to the data that we have collected on the Virocans. If I can determine what happened that I may have missed…some underlying cause of the disease…some intricate detail of Virocan law that I do not yet understand…. I may be able to appeal Captain Janeway's sentence."

"The idea has merit," Chakotay conceded. "Request granted. You have three weeks before we are out of communication range. After that, I want you on the shuttle and making your way for Voyager." He swallowed hard with his next words. "With or without Captain Janeway"

"Understood," Tuvok nodded. "And will Voyager continue its journey to the Alpha Quadrant?"

Chakotay looked hard at Tuvok, weighing his decision carefully. "Yes, I promised her I would get this ship home…. but that does not mean we will stop trying to bring her with us."

Tuvok shook his head in agreement.

As the Lieutenant Commander left the acting Captain's quarters, Chakotay added, "Oh and Tuvok…"

"Yes?"

"Don't mention my emotional attachment to anyone."

"I will not, but it is highly probable that the senior staff are already aware."

Chakotay chuckled. "I was afraid you would say something like that."

…

Viroca Penal Colony

Kathryn woke up with a start. She had almost forgotten where she was, but then it dawned on her and she laid back down.

She stared at the ceiling. The dim light from the ceiling remained on at all times. She decided not to be annoyed by it, given that it was going to accompany her for quite a long time.

She hoped not too long, wondering if there would ever be an opportunity to get out of here. She doubted it - not with those charges, that guilt that rested squarely on her shoulders.

Her head hurt. She rubbed her temples. The smell was getting to her. Rotting. Disgusting. Putrid.

She didn't think she would ever get used to it.

If it was indeed sulfur that her nostrils detected, Kathryn wondered what the Virocans could possibly be using the chemical for - what purpose. Though one of the most abundant elements, sulfur had many uses, and not all were necessarily mundane.

I wonder where Voyager is now, she thought to herself. It was hard not to think of the people she had gotten to know over the past six years - her crew, her friends.

Her family, really.

Suddenly, the heavy door to her cell swung open. She looked up to two Virocan guards.

"Move," they ordered her, and she did as their weapons pushed against the small of her back.

In cuffs and blindfolded again, Kathryn shook off the feeling of helplessness.

Her bare feet carried her swiftly through the prison, turning numerous times - left, right, left again, another left. She tried to remember the direction - though she was not really sure why. Perhaps, Kathryn judged, she wanted to keep her mind sharp, play these little games in her head to pass the time away.

Finally, Kathryn felt warm, humid air. She was outside. The guards continued to push her along, pulling her up into something.

She felt others around her. Close. Too terribly close. People to her right and left - crowded in like pigs to slaughter – trust her mind to conjure a farm analogy.

And then another door shut. When the ground lurched underneath her, Kathryn knew she was on some type of transport vessel.

The journey was not far. In fifteen minutes, the guards jerked her out of what seemed to be a cage.

Finally, they removed the blindfold.

She found herself face to face with Commandant Vernard.

"Welcome to the mines, prisoners," he stated, hands behind his back, walking back and forth in front of the group who had been transported from the cell block.

Kathryn looked around, her eyes moving quickly, trying to take in her surroundings. There was a group of about twenty - five females, including herself, the rest men - all prisoners, all in shackles.

She stared ahead of her. A great crater formed in the middle of the land. Scaffolding surrounded it. The yellow of the ground and the smell was unmistakable - sulfur. Two deep wells rested on both far sides of the crater. A mile or so past the mine seemed to be a large processing plant - smoke billowing from the place.

"Prisoner 8432," Vernard addressed Kathryn. "You look as if you have something to say."

Kathryn shook her head, meeting the Commandant's eyes.

"Good," he sneered. "Prisoners of block 8400, you are to be workers of this mine. You will remove the element we require from this land at a quick pace. You will go down to the crater floor, break off chunks of said element, and carry it back to us in these baskets for processing." The Commandant raised a gray pail that looked like it could carry about fifteen to twenty pounds.

Kathryn looked at the crater again.

It was a long way down on scaffolding that had seen better days.

She looked at her feet, remembering she had no shoes.

At least I'll get some exercise, she mused.

Commandant Vernard watched Prisoner 8432. He did not trust her. He knew she could be trouble.

He would break her.

"Prisoners who do this work well for us will continue to receive their rations. Those who cannot keep up with the work," he snickered, "well, let none of us find out, shall we?" He eyed another young female in the prisoner line-up. "You," he pointed to her.

She trembled.

"You will not survive here. Will you?" Verdant asked as the woman continued to quake, a tear beginning to form behind her eye.

"Please," she begged. "I…I…" she could not get the words out.

A guard passed a pail to the Commandant who then slammed it into the woman's stomach.

"Get down to work. Quickly now, if you want to eat," he whispered in the woman's ear.

She quickly grabbed the pail, and, on shaky legs, began her descent into the crater.

As a guard gave Kathryn a bucket, she caught Vernard's cold, unfeeling eyes.

Her gaze was one of steel.

She knew her mettle would be tested.

I've got thick skin. And I don't like bullies.